And I'm not going back into rags or in the hole....

Life has just settled down.

Things are happy and comfortable.

I'm laying down on my stomach, reading Camus's "The Stranger" on my nice, comfy bed. It's 8:15 pm on a random Thursday.

Nothing in the world is bothering me.

Dan's in the living room happily killing zombies on his computer video game.

I'm at peace.

And then my phone chirps. I raise an eyebrow and slowly get up to fetch it from my dresser. "It must be Hale" I think. He's Dan's friend from college. He'll be here this weekend for a few lacrosse games and we're going to hang out with him.

Nope. It ain't Hale.

It's Ed.

FUCKING SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK OH GOD OH FUCK WHATTHEFUCKDOIDO!??!

I draw a breath. Tell myself to stop acting like a jackass and read it.

Edgar: Hi

For Christ sake, don't dissect it...answer the Goddamn, boy!!

me: Hey u...what's up?

Shit, did I wait the appropriate time to show him I'm not super fucking excited...was that enough of a wait to show him I don't care? FUCK FUCK FUCK.

The blood stops roaring in my ears. My heart rate has slowed. I go back to reading my book. Why should I care? Right? Why?

Edgar: Its been a while i just wanna say hi

Wait...what does that mean? Does that mean he's thinking of me? He wants to keep tabs on me? He wants to show some interest in how I'm doing...what what what?!? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!?

I could spend all night analyzing that. But I think the frantic minutes here are more than enough. I gotta snap out of it. I'm being silly and quickly slipping into obsessive girl mode. We already know this leads to nowhere but crazy-ville.

me: I know...how nice of u. Hope all is good with u. I'm jealous u went to vegas!

I wince. FUCK. That sounds like I spy on his Facebook. Whatever.

Edgar: Yeah vegas was the shit.

I have to stop myself from replying: "And not a single drunk text from you. I must say I was a bit disappointed."

I don't want to sound needy. Or overly flirty. Or horribly dependent on him for attention.

I've noticed now I've spent about a half hour or more agonizing over appropriate answers and tone. FUCK THIS. I want to go back to my regular life where I don't run every reply through a fine toothed comb. I decide to keep him guessing and dump this conversation.

me: I'm going to vegas with my girls in june. I plan to be fucked up outta my mind. Be good, we'll talk soon. :)

I get no reply from him. Excellent.

Like a smoker, like a drug addict, like an obese dieter...I have to wean myself away from his charms. I have to stop buying into false promises or the ever-enticing mirage of his love and affection. It just isn't there. That's because he never existed more than in the capacity of a fling, a hook-up, a getaway. I'd sink like a stone if I tried to land him.

(sigh sigh sigh)

Valentine's Day is this weekend. I got Dan hockey tickets to see his favorite team play the Anaheim Ducks. Maybe I'm a sucker, but I can't wait to see the smile on his face.

I'm striving to make our time pleasant. We deserve it.