Act I: Hanging Out This Week
Me (10:05pm): Heyo,
Want to hang out Thursday as usual? Maybe food and meandering, if the weather's nice. Possibly a rousing game of Spot the Jorts. That's always amusing.
[Cape] said he'd go see Tangled and [Katie] said she'd go see Black Swan but neither can go until later in the weekend, so we'd have to wait for movie chaperon-age.
I feel like I should say something profound and comforting here, but it's all coming out awkward, so just have a good night.
Mike (10:10pm): Ehhhhhh awkwardness. :-/ Everybody's unfavorite.
Is Black Swan this week at [student union]? I'd be up for waiting for that one. I've wanted to see it for a while.
Me (10:11pm): Yeah, it's the 9pm one.
Black Swan, I mean. Not the awkwardness. I'm ignoring that.
Act II: Awkwardness and Love
Mike (10:16pm): Yeah. Awkwardness, alas, has no timeframe limits.
Me (10:17pm): And it makes me blurt out: Can we not hang out alone anymore?
I don't mean to be dramatic but that would be really depressing.
Mike (10:18pm): Yeah. Agreed. :-/
(10:20pm) I hate that. But I do agree. Plus it would be constantly scratching at the itch instead of getting it to go away.
Me (10:23pm): Clarification needed, please. Hanging out alone is tempting fate, is that what you mean?
Er, not fate, but the itch.
Mike (10:24pm): Yeah, kinda, and it's not like we magically quit liking each other last week. And hanging out alone together would I think just make that worse.
Me (10:25pm): Oh goddammit.
You're right. I just wish liking each other wasn't so...bad for us.
Mike (10:30pm): Darn it all to heck and back. Why can't we have fallen in love with more compatible people...
Me (10:33pm): Because--fucked if I know.
I halfway want to enjoy this but mostly I just want my best friend--that'd be you--back.
Mike (10:34pm): Ditto.
Anyway this is kind of making me sick to my stomach. :( Can we maybe pretend the awkward away? Looking directly at it doesn't seem to be helping.
(10:36pm) And I miss having you as my non-romantic-interest close friend too.
Act III: Ice Cream Time
Me (10:38pm): Yeah. Awkward's gone. What awkward? Exactly.
I think it might be ice cream time over here.
Mike (10:39pm): No ice cream here, sadly. I do have ramen, but um... poor substitute much?
Me (10:39pm): We almost made it. Five more weeks of some good old-fashion repression, and I'd be safely back in [home] and the awkward could die a rather slow but dignified death. Maybe. We could pretend better, anyway.
(10:40pm) Okay, but for real. No more beating on it. That's just making things worse. ICE CREAM, my friend.
Mike (10:40pm): ICE CREAM!
Me (10:41pm): MSG vs. sugar. Hmmmmmm. Oh so different but both oh so tempting. I bet there's ramen-flavored ice cream somewhere in the world. Probably not Columbia, though.
Mike (10:42pm): Japan. All the freakiest stuff is there. We read Cracked, we know this.
Me (10:43pm): HAHAH. Cracked: social ambassador to the Weird East since 1950.
Mike (10:46pm): No, if Cracked.com was our ambassador to pretty-much-anywhere nuclear winter would have set in roughly... *checks founding date* ...2007.
Me (10:50pm):Yeah, I was going off their masthead. But the world hasn't ended yet, so I think you're the right one here.
(10:55pm): On that positive note, I gotta go. Good night, Michael.
Mike (11:02pm): Good night, Melanie.
Fin.
Fuck you, Love.
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