STH Moments
STH... Straight To Hell moments. Last night had a few.
Andy had called while I was at the stupid Shareholder meeting (which felt like it took forever... in reality, it was closer to 3.5 hours, but be damned if it didn't feel like at least 5). Apparently her apartment is full of mold... or mould... anyway, not a healthy place to be. So I said she could crash at my place and she accepted the offer... she got there around 10:20 (I got home around 10), and we talked a bit... she changed into one of my t-shirts (and I, once again, was placed in the semi-enviable position of trying to keep from drooling) and then we talked more... at one point while we were sitting on the couch she put her head on my stomach and I lay my arm across her shoulder/arm. It just felt... well, fabulous, really. And painful... I really do like her, but knowing that this is as close (physically) as I'm ever going to get to her is kinda harsh. And, of course, the constant reoccuring thought: I'm going to the special hell for this. The one reserved for people that take advantage of women or who talk in theatres.
Anyway, woke her up this morning (after trying very hard to not stare at her sleeping in my bed... have I mentioned that she's pretty? 'Cause she's really pretty), made omelletes (they turned out okay) and then bolted for the bus... she stayed behind at my place. So now I'm at work thinking about how awesome it would be if she were really at my place for me, not just because she needed a place to crash... fighting off the mental urges to just lift her in my arms and finally kiss her.
[sigh]
These thoughts will pass. Andy has Patrick, Patrick is awesome and hot and she loves him. For me... such things are not to be. One of these days I may meet somebody, though. That'd be nice.
Andy had called while I was at the stupid Shareholder meeting (which felt like it took forever... in reality, it was closer to 3.5 hours, but be damned if it didn't feel like at least 5). Apparently her apartment is full of mold... or mould... anyway, not a healthy place to be. So I said she could crash at my place and she accepted the offer... she got there around 10:20 (I got home around 10), and we talked a bit... she changed into one of my t-shirts (and I, once again, was placed in the semi-enviable position of trying to keep from drooling) and then we talked more... at one point while we were sitting on the couch she put her head on my stomach and I lay my arm across her shoulder/arm. It just felt... well, fabulous, really. And painful... I really do like her, but knowing that this is as close (physically) as I'm ever going to get to her is kinda harsh. And, of course, the constant reoccuring thought: I'm going to the special hell for this. The one reserved for people that take advantage of women or who talk in theatres.
Anyway, woke her up this morning (after trying very hard to not stare at her sleeping in my bed... have I mentioned that she's pretty? 'Cause she's really pretty), made omelletes (they turned out okay) and then bolted for the bus... she stayed behind at my place. So now I'm at work thinking about how awesome it would be if she were really at my place for me, not just because she needed a place to crash... fighting off the mental urges to just lift her in my arms and finally kiss her.
[sigh]
These thoughts will pass. Andy has Patrick, Patrick is awesome and hot and she loves him. For me... such things are not to be. One of these days I may meet somebody, though. That'd be nice.
posted by Marx at 6:39 AM
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