I ain't all that innocent any more.
All day today I've thought he was coming. Odd, yes. There's been no indication that there will be pounding on the door, and awkward meetings. It just seems like the type of thing that would happen, and it follows with the constant feeling of anticipation I've had since I moved into this state a year and a half ago. It seems fitting.
And I was wasting time when I felt really tired, so I went to bed at 3. Exhausted. I forced myself to say, "He's not coming, Carie." Over and over again. I woke up at 5 to the phone ringing, and I knew it wasn't him.
I don't know why I feel this nervousness, walking on egg shells feeling. I don't know why I expect things like this to happen, and least of all to me. I have a hard time with it because I doubt it. I doubt because my premonitions are rarely right. And I don't know how much of it is premonition and how much is just a very powerful wish.
Inevitably, the night will be over without any sign, and I'll crawl into bed disappointed in myself for letting my hopes get too far up.
I hope too, that you will not think this is sad, it's just how I'm wired. It keeps me from investing everything in idle thoughts, and things that only happen in the movies. We all want a romantic comedy ending to every day. We want the impossible magic that only script writers can produce. I want John Cuzack outside of my window playing Peter Gabriel.
Goddamn pretend boys. They messed me up more than any bad relationship. Well, almost.