5:12p.m.: Text from Chicago saying work was crazy this week. Same here. That was about the end of the normalcy in the conversation. He starts asking for pictures of me, sprinkled with weirdness/creepiness.
8:36p.m.: Sparse texting til now, and he’s really fucking weirding me out at this point. I ask him to quit, he doesn’t. So kbyeee.
12:35a.m.: Sitting at home watching Sex and the City. Please tell me I haven’t crossed over from singledom to boringdom.
12:39a.m.: Text from Bowling Green: “What are you doing?” i.e. code for “Come over.” Can’t decide if I want to respond. I really don’t want to be tempted to go over there, but I have done absolutely nothing all night. Ugh FML.
1:24a.m.: I cave and text him back. Luckily I’m in bed already, so absolutely no chance of going over there. I can’t get over how much it fucking sucks that the one guy I would love to hook up with has become sexually taboo. Goodnight cruel world.