After that, thing looked up for a little bit more, but, of course, it all fell apart soon enough. (All of my stories about girls end this way, don't they?) We hooked up once more before Easter break, but after that it was as though nothing happened. I took to disconsolately walking by her building and looking up wistfully. One weekend, she got drunk and over IM, she sounded like she was going to cut. So, I nearly broke my neck climbing up and onto the balcony of dorm with my mad bouldering technique. I found her passed out on her floor. I turned off the lights and left a Japanese message on her door. It was the high point of modernity, let me tell you. Soon thereafter, I was informed that such behavior is too obsessive. She said it was stalker like. And she secretly blocked me on instant messenger, but I saw her with my other account. A confrontation ensued. She said she needs space. I bitched at her, asking when had anything but space existed between us, but really, what can you do? It was a very emasculating experience. After that, it's been abundantly clear that she doesn't want me at all. She said all our run ins were a coincidence. She says she was sleepy or drunk or not thinking or some other excuse. It was painful to hear and probably not entirely true. There were times when it might have worked out, but it didn't, and I'm kind of stuck with life as it is. Now that I've fallen out of love, the sand is coming out of my eye, and I've almost forgetten the dream. At least, until I see her wrinkle her nose at me as she walks down the hall. Then I pull a Jigglypuff for a second or two.

I got another Nylon at home, but she hasn't seen it. I made her a mix CD, but she says she hasn't had time to listen to it. I got new posters for my room, but she's never been in it. I can understand how she can shallowly reject me and desire my more handsome friend, since after all my love of her was pretty shallow to start with, but I would have liked for her to move forward and maybe come to like me anyway. She asked me what I why I wanted her to listen to the CD, etc., etc., and I explained that I want someone to approve of my choice as a consumer--so I can feel assured that I am as cool as I've wanted to be.

I lost the book of Basho poetry, and the library wants it back desperately. I ended up buying another one off Amazon, but there was still a $15 restocking fee to pay. I live in dreams like Henjo, but nothing comes of it. In the morning, the moonbeams on my face are erased. The yellow glow of the Waffle House sign can't keep me fed when I'm driving away from it. My horse, cart ordering mechanism failed catastrophically once again, and I don't have much to show for it. The night we met, at a point where it looked like we wouldn't hook up, I kind of sat in the hallway in half lotus and tried to gather the courage to tell her that I had liked her for so long. During spring break, Corey recommended non-sexual sleeping with girls. I think he's right about there being something to it. Those times I half-slept with her, on the futon, around the column, in her loft, I think I let the barrier between my dream world and the real one dim. All my half-thoughts of love and completeness are able to project themselves out onto her, unimpeded. There in the fuzzy lands of Doki Doki Panic: Yume Kouba, I toss turnips unaware of the Bowsers at my doorstep. I'm just so in love with the concept of Love that I stumble around trying to fall on someone who will love me back. Meanwhile, Amanda remains my best friend and wholly outside the concept of romance. And that was the landscape of my dreams until so recently, when I went to my fourth prom, this time with a girl I hardly knew, and everything changed...

But not really.
the Earthbound kid
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