Josie (13)

November 28 (Sunday)

You were unable, for various reasons, to see me this weekend. Not Friday. Not Saturday. Not Sunday.

I've had my first brush with the no-zone. Seemingly random, floating pockets of nothing which suck the happiness from me and cause me to tear up at the slightest provocation. I wish I could admit to someone that this girl...I can't clinch this girl. You are beyond my grasp. Who to tell such a thing? Who would listen and hear me? I'm at a loss.

November 30

Monday, you called me in the morning; I called you back and also left a message and finally we spoke late at night.

You're a funny girl. I send you flowers and you're touched, grateful and an inch short of ecstatic. Then, you ignore me all weekend ('cause that would mean we would see each other four weeks in a row) and now I'm going out for dinner on a weeknight to your place! One step forward, two steps back. Just the same, I'm looking forward to fish sticks and fries.

December 2

Tuesday night went well. We spent some time on your computer, you looked through some of my pictures and we listened to Strunz and Farah. Absolutely, completely uneventful otherwise.

As I left your place I shook your hand to emphasis the obvious discomfort I felt in saying goodbye without a peck on the cheek. You said, you would call me in twenty minutes just to make sure I got home safely. Now I ask you: Are these the gestures of a friend or a girl-friend? Or a would-be-girl-friend? Or what?

We talked at night after I left your place for another hour. I felt that spending even more time with you was not good for my well-being. That talking to you two to three times a day, when you tell me you only want a friendship, is not a good thing.

You surmise that I am getting to like you too much. I say, yes. Yes. Message received. So we decide not to call each other as often.

Next day -- Wednesday -- you call me at 9:30 a.m. You call from work with a reason: You have a burning question on Canadian geography that just can't wait; Only now that I'm on the phone you can't remember what the question was. I laugh and say, "You're driving me nuts!" You laugh too.

In the afternoon, while thinking of you, I decide to pick up my messages from my answering machine. Instead of dialing my home number, I mistakenly dial your work number and end up talking to you for a few minutes. At night you say we talk too much about ourselves. About you and me and we and us and all that. I ask, "Why do you think we're talking so much about ourselves?"

You say, "Because you think I'm nice." I agree and repeat the same sweet sentence. And you thank me and say, "I thing you're nice too."

And I thank you and go to a true and tried method -- playing dumb.

"But we shouldn't be talking so often?"

"I know," you say. "It's like an addiction."

"Talking to me?"

"Yeah."

"That's a good thing."

"No it's not. What if you stop talking to me? What will I do then?"

Without missing a beat, and truly and honestly, I say, "Josie, I won't stop talking to you."

"You promise?"

"I promise I won't ever stop talking to you."

"Even if I give you shit?"

"Even if you give me shit...just as long as it's legitimate shit." We hang up soon after and I sleep a happy man.