Seperis (seperis) wrote,
Seperis
seperis

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the universe, she mocks

Every so often, I'm reminded that I need to seriously loosen up.

This falls under Unrequited tag. You may remember it from such moving epistles of prose as Cute Guy In Class That I Discovered Was in the Army and Prompty Discovered Hormonal Attraction and earlier, Oh My God I Have a Crush, What the Hell?

Okay, and just for your own warning; those titles are far more interesting than anything that actually happened.

Continuing the glorious story of my inability to deal with sudden, inexplicable attraction, I got through my last days of school (WITH AN A. HELL YES) and didn't even look at him too much, and deliberately dressed badly. I even tied my hair up unattractively and did not powder. I was ready. I was--kind of crazy, really. But whatever. During lab, we traded amused looks and I completely ignored him and finished up, only to discover, yes, I do in fact share this exact class with him next semseter. Well, not this class, but the one that comes after.

And I totally put him out of my mind, because hello, one, too young (probably), long term girlfriend (definitely) and I don't even need a three, see one and two! But by God, this would not interfere with the stages of a crush. Though it would be easier if I could remember his name. *hazards* Maybe Nate.



Last night I had a dream.

A dream I was on a motorcycle. With him.

And for some reason, we were making out (this is actually embarrassing. I'm a freaking slash writer who dreams of kissing someone. There's no level that this doesn't make me feel twelve) and I, I was constantly saying "But you have a girlfriend!" and trying to get away.

...what the hell is up with that? I woke up feeling guilty. And vaguely uncomfortable. And really tired, too. Because let me tell you, balancing a motorcycle is not easy when one is fending off attractive advances.

Please send me lipgloss for my trauma. Or hell, a psychologist. No human should wake up feeling guilty that they made out with a figment of their imagination.



I'm pretty sure I could write all about Rodney yelling he wants to take it like a little bitch while John wanders around in assless chaps singing Oklahoma with less embarrassment than this moment.

This has got to end or I am going to do something drastic. If I knew what that should be, I would totally do it, too. Right now
Tags: unrequited
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