The Journal Entries
10 January, 2012 1855PM
I slept surprisingly well last night, despite being nervous about having to meet Oliver for lunch today. I thought I would toss and turn all night; I slept through a thunderstorm.
We met at a pub downtown, and when he saw me he grabbed my hand and led me inside as if we were still together. My palms were sweaty as shit, but I didn’t take my hand away—as much as I wanted to. I remember closing my eyes as we walked towards the back of the pub, and thinking, “this is the greatest feeling.” The way his long, skinny fingers looked while they were intertwined with my short, stubby ones almost made me cry, because I miss being able to look down and see it all the time. I miss being curled up on the sofa with him while we watched movies all night. I miss him kissing the top of my head when he thought I was asleep.
Really, I’m just beating my head against a wall. I just got home from work, and I’m already wallowing.
Did I mention that the pub we ate lunch at, is also the place where we met? And the booth that we sat in, in the back by the noisy water heater, is the booth where we always sat when we went on dates?
Hard feelings aside, it really was nice to talk to him. We joked and laughed like we always did, the only difference being that I couldn’t reach across the table and grab his hand when I wanted to.
I cried my fucking eyes out when he kissed me at the door. It wasn’t even just a peck on the cheek, either. He fucking kissed me. Like he meant it. And it was all I could do not to burst into tears right in front of him. Luckily, I was able to choke out a “bye” before I hobbled off in the other direction, ducking around a corner before I started blubbering loudly. I’m sure I got a few stares, but I could care less.
He just texted me, too. Just now. Just to let me know that he missed days like today. Word for word, the text says:
I’ve missed days like this, dick breath. I miss you.
While most people would think that this is a hateful message, that’s just how Oliver shows affection. We call each other inappropriate names in place of pet names, because it’s funny to us. Or at least it was while we were dating. Now it just kind of makes me sad.
I don’t know if I’m going to text him back. Today was emotionally draining, and I don’t know if I can handle any more right now. Maybe I’ll text him tomorrow and tell him that I was already asleep or something.
Maybe I’ll forget, and just not say anything at all. That would be nice.
x,
Carlie
We met at a pub downtown, and when he saw me he grabbed my hand and led me inside as if we were still together. My palms were sweaty as shit, but I didn’t take my hand away—as much as I wanted to. I remember closing my eyes as we walked towards the back of the pub, and thinking, “this is the greatest feeling.” The way his long, skinny fingers looked while they were intertwined with my short, stubby ones almost made me cry, because I miss being able to look down and see it all the time. I miss being curled up on the sofa with him while we watched movies all night. I miss him kissing the top of my head when he thought I was asleep.
Really, I’m just beating my head against a wall. I just got home from work, and I’m already wallowing.
Did I mention that the pub we ate lunch at, is also the place where we met? And the booth that we sat in, in the back by the noisy water heater, is the booth where we always sat when we went on dates?
Hard feelings aside, it really was nice to talk to him. We joked and laughed like we always did, the only difference being that I couldn’t reach across the table and grab his hand when I wanted to.
I cried my fucking eyes out when he kissed me at the door. It wasn’t even just a peck on the cheek, either. He fucking kissed me. Like he meant it. And it was all I could do not to burst into tears right in front of him. Luckily, I was able to choke out a “bye” before I hobbled off in the other direction, ducking around a corner before I started blubbering loudly. I’m sure I got a few stares, but I could care less.
He just texted me, too. Just now. Just to let me know that he missed days like today. Word for word, the text says:
I’ve missed days like this, dick breath. I miss you.
While most people would think that this is a hateful message, that’s just how Oliver shows affection. We call each other inappropriate names in place of pet names, because it’s funny to us. Or at least it was while we were dating. Now it just kind of makes me sad.
I don’t know if I’m going to text him back. Today was emotionally draining, and I don’t know if I can handle any more right now. Maybe I’ll text him tomorrow and tell him that I was already asleep or something.
Maybe I’ll forget, and just not say anything at all. That would be nice.
x,
Carlie
♠ ♠ ♠
Hi there! Just wanted to pop my head in and say that I'm very proud of the amount of subscribers and recommendations I've received on this story, but I do wish to see some more comments! I hate when the author of a story I love begs for comments, or says things like, "not going to update until I receive ___ comments," but we're well past chapter five and I only have one :(If there's a reason that you feel like this story isn't worthy of comments, will you at least comment and tell me why you don't want to leave feedback? I promise it won't hurt my feelings, I love getting constructive criticism!