Wednesday, 11/13/02 - 2:00 pm.
Today's Melvin's birthday. I just sent him an e-mail. Sometimes I find hard to believe that I may not see him again.
I'm reading Walk This Way, the Aerosmith autobiography, yet again. I'm kind of jealous of Aerosmith. I love the first chapters of the book, how everything started.
I'm having a very unproductive day. I'm not going to the bookstore today. But tomorrow I'm pickin' up my grades at school, and on friday I'm going to the beach.
I still don't know if Norman and him will go with Adri, Veronica and me. They're lost. I haven't heard from them. It pisses me off (due to 8th grade traumas), but there's not much I can do about it. I'm getting used to the idea that he's not going.
Voice: All the better to kiss the girls with those lips....I mean, good, you'll be better off without him at the beach.
("All the better to kiss the girls with those lips" is what Steven Tyler's mom says to him when he goes home cryin' for getting called nigger lips at school...I know some lines by heart and my voices tend to repeat them).
I suppose I should camp in front of the TV. There's an Aerosmith Best Buy commercial, you know?
Well, so I was saying...yeah, whatever. Whether he goes or not.
I was thinking of asking him...something like why don't you talk to me?. But then Simeon pointed out that's an open question. So I'm going for a yes/no question like are you mad at me?. He'll probably say no. He'd better not answer why?. I'm not in the fuckin' mood to receive a question as an answer. I really don't want to know what he has to say, I just want to ask.
I'm deleting all his e-mails. Except one. I still don't have the heart to get rid of everything.
I got a call from the guy this morning. Maybe there's a hidden part of me that considers him a clown, but I have to smile and try not to laugh out loud when I'm talking to him.
He's been pretty weird on the last couple of calls. No sex? "I-want-to-go-visit-you-who-cares-who's-home-at-the-time-we're-not-doing-anything"? "Good bye, gorgeous"? Gosh, what the fuck is he on?.
Hasn't it happened to you that you're telling someone something depressive that happened to you, yet you're smiling? I had a dumb smile on my face when I was telling him about "someone who just broke my heart". I was about to cry (I even said I didn't want to talk about it), but I was smiling.
I'm telling you, this guy has something half of me laughs at and this half doesn't want to tell the other what it is.
I've spent the entire morning thinking of boys. The boys I've had feelings for. And to avoid such subject, I'll draw my ultimate conclusion: I love Aerosmith. I love those five Bad Boys from Boston. The rest will come and go.
