I'm not supposed to talk about boys, but sometimes they just won't get out of your head.

A few years ago, I was in love. Yeah, yeah, the L word is thrown around too much and what the hell do I know about love, anyway? But I was. And w/a very good friend. I seem to fancy falling in love w/very good friends, don't I? Anyway, we had dated once before and things were all good in the hood. That is until he dumped my ass at Disney. Being the masochistic little elf that I am, I continued to like him for years. I had a notebook filled w/letters, rants, and lyrics, all pertaining to him and the situation I found myself. I wrote him name on my wall. I got drunk w/him every weekend and talked to him every day. I told him I still had feelings for him several times, once by writing it into a play that he later attended a performance of at a small theatre.

All of these things got me nowhere and I eventually got over those weird feelings that made me waste wishes on him.

Anyhoo, fast forward three years.

We grew apart, but not too apart. He was there for me when that shit happened last year and I was there for him. We still drink together every once in awhile. I can still talk to him like I did when we were hanging out every week. Hell, every time I see him, we just pick right back up from where we left off. But it's still different.

I guess that what time does to you, huh?

But, lately, I've been thinking about him. A lot. Dreams, too. This is confusing me cuz the last time I saw him, all I felt was annoyed cuz he kept talking during Dawson's Creek. So why did I feel a little flutter when I found out he had asked a friend about me on Mardi Gras?

And in a strange coincidence, the boy who had once jumped him and kept threatening to kill him was killed two weeks ago in a bar fight. I always remembered that and when I read this boy's name in the paper, all I could think about was how scared we had been.

And how much I cared about him.

Man, fuck this shit. I don't want crushes or boys or anything distracting right now. I have too much to do. Boys just get in the way. I should go dig out that notebook and read all those letters. Then maybe I'll remember how miserable I was in the months following the breakup and realize I don't want to go through that shit again. Christ, I think I'm regressing to my freshmen self.

Boys are poison.

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