Yupp. Guilty.

DANG DANG DANG. I am such an arse. What is the cardinal rule of a 20 something strong, independent woman? OK maybe not “cardinal” (is that word ever used for anything other then “the cardinal rule”? I don’t think so.), but significant enough I’d say.

Speak it with me girls!
DO NOT LET MEN CONTROL YOUR LIFE.

I am being so effed swept! Colin is crap in a million ways, but some days (like today) I cannot shake those stupid erratic feelings I have for him. Arrrrgggh. Damn you and how you look so good at work! Why do you have to wear your hair fancy and have a beard like you know I like? Why are you buying new clothes that make me compliment you! How do I find you so sexily intelligent at work and yet so dumb in your decisions elsewhere??

Since I arrived back from vacation in Edmonton, slowly but surely he has been making his way back into my nook. It began with just little things, easily dismissible.

But from short hellos and deep sidelong glances came full on conversations. As things built up I had to release by sending him an email professing all, again. This time, there was no avoidance; he was friendlier to me if anything and even recently told me how much he enjoyed reading it. So far, so good. But, brain kicking in for my own well being I locked myself up, chanting nightly “One more month, just one more month” in the mirror as affirmation.

Of course, we all know that when it comes to the opposite sex I play it strong but am in reality too stupid and a dreamer forgiving and understanding. Last week, I threw caution to the wind. I let myself have it: multiple amicable chats and a lunch date together in the caf. Friday went even further, he venturing to my desk several times and coming out of his comfort zone, touching his skin to mine in a very non coworker fashion. Yeah, I got lots of work done that day :|

Today is Tuesday. Day two of hell week as things have begun to plateau. The next step would be a “casual” encounter in Saint John, but that phenomenon is of the past and merely existent in my imagination these days. It’s only a matter of time before he realizes how close to that we’re getting, clams up and turns on me. Start the fucking proverbial countdown.

Despite all, we’re in a good place. I think. If only because we’ll be leaving each others lives in no less than 30 days. I am for this moment, happy. Dare I say it, enjoying myself. And I believe he is, too. Our behavior is, in its way, harmless. 30 days and it will be done. No harm, no foul. And life will go on. He will return solely to his gf and the home they are building together and all that entails. I will return to my city, my third year of university, a crazy class schedule and my presidency of Iota Beta Chi Sorority. Our lives will be separated by more then just 150km.

For all the foolishness, for everything that has happened, for the good times and the bad, I guess all I can do is hold my breath and take this thing one day at a time.









Day one.