Mi amour, Papi

So there's a new development in my romantic life. (Not as though anyone cares, though...)

He's an underclassman in my Adv. Acting class. He's half-Latino, so I call him Papi. (He likes the nickname...) He's got the loveliest brown skin and eyes and hair, and fucking amazing cheekbones, and he's fairly ripped, and his smile, oh GOD, that smile...I would see him smile at me just once if it cost me my sight....

But it's not just the looks, it's more than that. He digs Darkhorse Comics, like a LOT, and we've had whole discussions on superhero theory. He's a skater, and a really enthusiastic one at that. He's really into music, too. He keeps the door open for you, even if he sees you coming 50 yards away. And he's got such a sensitive soul, it kills me when all of the older kids in class gang up on him cuz he's skinny, and he has moments where he just goes and reads by himself in class and is totally anti-social. It drives me wild, cuz I can never bring myself to go cheer him up....

But of course, Jhami can. Jhami is his best friend, hands down. Sure, she dresses like a dude, and I'm not sure she's even aware that she's a chick, but if any girl can weasel their way into Papi's heart, it's her. I envy her for her closeness to him, but if she keeps him happy, then I am happy, y'know? And the funny thing is, she probably doesn't even realize that he adores her, which is almost adding insult to injury....

But at least if he's with Jhami, he's not succumbing to those wretched skinny whores that follow him around. I blame his wicked-great fashion sense. He's always got some little sophomore slut hanging off him, and I'm sure he feels like a fucking rock star half the time. God, if I could just feel one rogue touch from him...just on accident...I'd die feeling like a rock star....

Eh, but I digress. He doesn't see me in quite the same light....In the words of Paul Finch, "My romantic life has passed its peak; take me out to the pasture and shoot me...."