Monday, 2/17/2005 - 1:26 p.m.
So I told the Boy last night on the way home from Knox that I was in love with him. I knew a little over 2 weeks ago I was in love with him and I fought it *hard*. I denied it and I lied to myself big time about it and I fought it some more. I knew exactly when it happened because huge red neon lights exploded in my brain that said "YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!" and I almost told him right then. However, I squashed that feeling wayyyyyy down and fought it and denied it and lied about it for two weeks. I just sort of blurted it out, which is not how I planned it, and sat there with the shakes and a pounding heart. I couldn't even look at him. He was less than thrilled, which mortified and embarrassed me to the point I wanted to bolt as soon as we got back to his house. I even said as much to him and he asked me again to stay. Saying goodbye this morning was slightly stiff and cold but it was all my red wagon because I didn't know what the fuck to do. 70% of me just wanted to be gone (was still embarrassed at 6 am) and the other 30% wanted to drag him back to bed and say to hell with the world. Nothing like unzipping your heart and letting everything spill out only to hear the other person isn't there with you. I realized (after crying all over DC this morning) that no matter how hard it was for me to *say* it, it had to be doubly hard for the Boy to *hear* it. Having that much raw feeling dumped into your lap unexpectedly was definitely a shock. I had a good cry and a good nap and a huge lunch, so I'm doing pretty good right now.
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