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Y Chromosomes Suck

So last night I got an email from Scott wanting to know how I'm doing, twice he says he misses me but still thinks he did the right thing, but he's never as comfortable talking to anyone as me, etc. And of course he sends this just when I'm feeling proud of myself for being able to think about him without crying. He wants to be friends, or rather penpals because of the distance.

(For the record: it's been exactly a month since the breakup. Huh.)

So after the requisite freak I forward this to Andrew and demanded him to use his Y chromosome to translate the Mannish into English. (Elvish would be easier, dammit.) He says he thinks Scott has/had some genuine feelings for me, didn't know how to handle it and freaked, now regret is setting in but he still wants a little protective bubble, bleh bleh bleh. So "the ball is in my court." I have a ball??

I am just exhausted on so many levels. Y'know, Scott made me happier than I ever thought it was possible to be. And it wasn't just the stuff he did that was great, it was just who he was. He was the kinda guy who, the first day we're meeting, and we're lying on our backs under trees at the basin looking up at cherry blossoms, and he sees water reflections. Now how many guys look at the world like that? How many people are so open to simple beauty?

I really miss him. And I don't want to drop the ball. But I also have no idea how to play this game. Help?

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February 2018


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