Tuesday and the big 180

I woke up on Tuesday morning knowing exactly what was going to happen that day.

I'm not sure if I had some sort of wild dream the night before that sparked this, but here was the plan that was hatched in the cold, wee hours of Tuesday morning:  While on campus, I was going to casually drop by Kirk's study area, request an audience with him (more like demand he come with him), get him in a deserted hallway and then kiss the heck out of him.  I was going to kiss him SO good he would forget how to breathe, think, speak.  It was going to be hot.  I was going to hold him close, our cheeks touching, put my lips against his ear and tell him I wasn't going to wait anymore.  This whole "let's not date right now" thing isn't jiving with me in the least bit.  I'm so done waiting so let's not wait anymore.

I chickened out before I got there.  I was on my way across campus, bundled up in the cutest warm clothes I could rummage up, and I froze, both literally and figuratively.  I was freezing cold and suddenly paralyzed by the thought of going to push myself on this guy who's been telling me one thing, but failing to make his actions match his words.  As much as I want to be with Kirk, I have to have a shred of dignity left in me, enough to try and wait for him to come and show me that that hug goodbye that we shared was a hint towards the future.

I turned around and went home.  When I got home, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and deleted Kirk's number.  I unfollowed him on instagram.

You guys.  I haven't texted Kirk in a week.  But he hasn't texted me in a week.  I never told him that I was going to delete his number, that I was going to really put the ball in his court, I just did it.  He's still doing nothing, sitting oblivious on his side of things.

It hurts.  I miss him, even the little we did get to talk and see each other.

I suppose I have no choice now but to keep on living, beginning down the road of forgetting.

So long, Kirk.  You could have been great.