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I went and hung out with this friend of mine, Indy, tonight. Indy and I
have been friends for a long time, it's sort of weird yet very cool. Indy
is one of those rare persons around whom I'm sudden much more witty than
normal, she brings out the best in me. People always tell me that we should
date, mostly because she always dates these losers that all of us hate, but
also because we're so good together. Indy asked me when we hung out a month
ago why it was that we'd never dated each other, and I couldn't really come
up with an answer for that one. I don't know; I once thought to myself that
our relationship is all about sexual tension. She's quite the hottie. But
that's not really true, because I don't really have any desire to be anything
more than a friend to her. Which is sort of weird, as a guy, because I start
picturing myself together with any and every girl that I get along with, just
to idly wonder and dating her. But not Indy; we're amazing friends and I
don't want anything more from her. Maybe that's why we fit together so well,
because I'm not trying to flirt with her. Or maybe I'm not trying to flirt
with her because our friendship is so perfect and I know I've ruined every
friendship that I've allowed (or rather, forced) to progress to the next
level. I don't know, it's rather perplexing. But not in a it-bothers-me
sort of way, just an isn't-that-funny sort of way.
Tonight she returned to me the only existing hard copy of my autobiography,
which I wrote over 5 years ago and shared with two friends, of whom she was
one (all three of us wrote autobiographies). I had forgotten all about it
(the hard copy, not the autobio, which I still update now and then) and had
given up long ago on ever getting it back.
It's so weird, looking at this thing. It's like openning a time capsule,
because I put all these photos and little trinkets in pockets throughout it.
So weird... I think I hate it. I want to burn it but I know I can't, I know
I'll put it in the closet and find it from time to time when I move stuff and
reminice and maybe one day when I'm really far removed from it I'll stop
hating it. Maybe.
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