I have exactly 526 words for my NaNoWriMo novel. I also got my offical NaNoWriMo shirt, which I immediately dubbed my "writin' shirt" and plan on wearing it for the next three weeks.

Oh, my. Three weeks? I am so fucked.

Goodbye, sleep. Hello, fun!

Anyway, I have a question. Say you have this friend whom you once harbored insane amounts of crush-like feelings towards. You and said friend used to talk for long periods and hang out when time permitted, despite aforementioned feelings. You considered this friend to be pretty damn cool to have on your side and was really glad to have him in your life.

The person got a mate who was not you and even though it took a little bit of time and a lot of alcohol, you exorcised those feelings of crushness and breathed a sigh of relief cuz now you could look at them and not wonder about requited feelings.

Things should be OK. You feel OK. Everyfuckingthing is OK.

Then they just stop calling. They come up with an excuse every time you bring up the possibility of hanging out and god forbid they actually suggest it first. They only send you a short letter every once in awhile, thinking that electronic communication suffices for actual person-to-person hanging out.

And yet you keep writing and calling and asking if they want to come over in a couple weeks, cuz, hey, that's far enough in advance, right?

This starts to make you mad. You get more and more pissed because he's supposed to be your friend and it's like he doesn't even care anymore.

OK, so I was doing pretty well with the gender neutrality up until that paragraph, huh?

Anyway, you would be angry, right? You would write him a nice little email detailing just how fucked you think this is, right?

Fuck rhetorical.

That Boy has not called me since my birthday. Or that's the last time I remember him calling me. And the last time I saw him? If you guessed December, you win a bitter little cookie. This is not right. I am not right for continuing to try to talk to him. He is not right for just fucking forgetting about me.

I wonder if he knows that the longer he takes to reply to the email, the more angry I get. It's been almost a week and that's not the type of letter you let go unanswered. Shit, I am exactly three days away from saying fuck it all and who cares that he was one of the few people I could hang out with in the weeks following K's death? Who cares that I think he's one of the coolest people I've met? And who the hell cares that he's made me feel better more times than he could ever possibly know?

How much do you want to bet that he's engaged now? Seriously. Put the money on the fucking table because he couldn't even tell me that he had a girlfriend. If he's engaged, I won't know until I run into him twenty years down the road at some camp reunion or detox center.

This hurts.

This hurts more than actually having a crush on him and knowing that shit wouldn't ever work out.

OK, I need to get some sleep. I don't even feel that much better after putting this all down. Fucking shit, man.

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