mercurial

Every day yields a different direction. Some days we're up. Some days we're down.

I don't know what's going on and that makes all the difference. There's no tangible ground for me to stand on.

When he needs me, I'm there, telling him what he wants to hear. When I need him, he's absent, a mystery, a figure of my imagination. Everyone has a different opinion, everyone thinks they know what's best. I'm glad for that, because I have no idea what to think.

To her, the seat stealer, he is clearly interested in me. In fact, the only communication they've supposedly had was about me.

To my best girl friend, he is a member of the String Along Gang. He simply likes the attention of my attraction, of knowing there's someone out there pining for him, but he has no intentions of actually making us an "us."

To my best guy friend, I'm the problem, not patient enough, not relaxed enough, too pushy.

All I know is that when it's good, it's like electricity is running through me, I smile for no apparent reason, and I feel alive.

It's been nearly a month since he ambushed me and it looks like that may have just been a random thing that will never happen again. So once again I've leaned on a seemingly fantastic guy who is just a cardboard cutout and I've fallen.