this is not -blank- -blank- dot com

Anybody who knows something about me and something about the writers I'm into will know exactly what the title of this post is referencing. Somehow part of me is trying to avoid writing an essay that's due tomorrow (it's mostly been composed in my head, but it just seems like nothing new can be said about this book and I've read it before and the exercise feels like cheating if you've read the book and in some way it feels like I've completely misunderstood it). Anyhow that's a digression from this digression.

Fuck you, I'm Batman. Anyway.

Back to what I was talking about originally. A fraction of a moment ago I had a witty reparte with someone on twitter, and it made me kind of really really sad. Because it reminded me of the crass British man whom I haven't spoken with since....well...a long time. We had a moment or two and it was really fun keeping up the correspondence, but I think there was an expectation or two on his part that I didn't live up to and thusly have been either discarded or relegated to some sort of heap of rejects. And it kind of breaks my heart - in several ways, because he's just darned cool, and funny, and charming, and incredibly sweet, not to mention a fucking GENIUS. I kind of love him in a fucked up way - in that idealistic "we've never really met and so we can say stupid things to each other and it'll always be perfect because of that" way. Except then we did. And it was amazing! It was everything I wanted it to be and more. I suffered horrible withdrawal afterward. He was so....fucking.....awesome. And not just because of the obvious things about him - I felt we had lots to talk about. It didn't feel awkward - it was easy and fun. I desperately wished he lived here, or closer to here, so we could be friends in that regular friendly way.

I don't know exactly what he thought was going to happen, but I worried that he thought it was going to be something else. I was somewhat contagiously sick, so even if somehow I had neglected my sense of morality and ethics, nothing could have happened. So I wonder if that was what he wanted - or if he had no expectations of me. Especially when I think about how exactly our "relationship" started.

All I know is that for a brief, spectacular moment, he lit up my life in an amazing way. Because he was someone that I felt I could really get along with so well, which I haven't felt in some ways since, well..you know...that thing I keep talking about and the reason this blog came to be in the first place. (duh, N)

So I continue to abide, and every now and then, I deeply miss the crass British man. He stole a piece of my heart.