Monday, May 23, 2011

my imaginary brazilian boyfriend

My imaginary brazilian boyfriend (not a figment of my imagination, he is real, just not my actual boyfriend) no longer works around the corner from where I live.


I'll let that awful news sink in. After not seeing him for a week (I often get off the bus early simply to walk past the restaurant and have a chat with him/simply glimpse him) I began to worry. So I did some investigations (read: forced my bestie to call the restaurant and casually ask for him) and I discovered he no longer works there, but at another location.

So. I have been achingly depressed ever since. Not only because he is GONE forever and I will most likely never see him again as the new restaurant is so far out of the way of my daily life it is not conceivable to ever run into him again but ALSO because it has actually been so long since I've been to the restaurant.

I kept putting it off because I felt I'd been going too much since he showed me how to make cocktails behind the bar and he could smell my desperation (he was SO CLOSE though, how could he not? Not gonna lie, we were body-to-body squeezing past each other behind that bar). So I just kept thinking "I'll go in a few weeks, give it some time." I feel robbed.

I want him back. What is the point of getting up, making an effort and leaving the house? It's not like I'm bound to run into him anymore. I can't even find him on facebook! I only know his first name, and I don't think he remembers mine.

I am so sad. Everything has lost its pleasant glow. GO AWAY SUN, YOU ARE NOT WANTED TODAY.

You probably think I'm being irrationally upset about all this, about a person I barely know (and don't be mistaken - all my whining on this blog/facebook/twitter is not histrionics, I'm truly, like, depressed and my mother thinks I'm mental).

But it's fun having a crush. And it's fun having a crush you have the chance of seeing on a daily basis. And it's fun flirting with them almost every day. And it's fun to have an excuse to put on fresh lipstick to go to the grocery store. And it's fun concoting elaborate fantasies about the passionate love affair we will have before he possibly moves back to Brazil in the next year.

Well that's how long I thought I had and prepared myself for. He was taken from me all too soon.

P.S. Someone knows I'm sad. There is a giant ass GIANT sticky date cake in the fridge...

No comments:

Post a Comment