girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary


May, May, the month of May, the merry month of May

Up until very recently I'd never told anyone I know in a real-life sense that I keep an online diary, because I figured that way I could write about them without worrying, and as soon as I told someone I'd regret it.

Then I broke my own rule, stupidly. I told someone, an old friend who I really didn't think I would be seeing, and suddenly I am seeing him, and I want to write about him.

But I don't think he reads it.

And it's the only thing I want to write about.

OK. Well, I remember the first time I saw him. At least I think I do. What I'm saying is that I have a memory which I'm classing as the First Time I Saw Him.

Oh, it's too boring to even describe in detail. Just that I had a feeling, you know. A Feeling.

This was 1989, my second last year of high school. I hardly even knew him for a few months. I was 16, really shy, very innocent. He, poor boy, was deposited from his All-American High School in Texas to suburban Sydney. He lived next door to one of my friends. And... well, I was still shy and innocent when he went back to the US, for your information.

The thing is, I was in love with him. I mean, really and truly, you know. Only all this time since then, since I've seen him, I've always wondered was it just some teenage hormonal thing? I mean, I've definitely never felt that way since.

Oh, gee, wow, I feel embarrassed typing this stuff. Even though it was so long ago, and I should just laugh at myself.

So, he's coming to this country for work things, and I'm going to see him.

I feel like one of those people who've gone to some talkshow and begged them to track down their "highschool sweetheart" who they've never forgotten and then they're finally reunited, but the highschool sweetheart always turns out to be happily married with five lovely children or whatever, and you feel really embarrassed for the person who was still thinking of them, because that's hard. With the other person saying "yeah, I think I remember you!"

Anyway, as far as I know, there will be no television cameras there when I see him tomorrow. And I already know that he's engaged. And you know, I'm over it. I AM! I think.

I'm meeting an old friend who I haven't seen for 14 years for a drink. I'm really excited.

The suspense is killing me.

We were teenagers the last time we met. Now we're, in the legal sense at least, adults. Although, I think he's more adult than me, owning a house and having pets, and white goods. Not to mention his fiancée. And a car -- he's got a car.

We've definitely got lots to catch up on. So, it's just my own personal version of a high school reunion. Only I get to choose the venue, and I won't get to bitch about who looks much older and fatter than me.

May is my exciting month. Book-ended by visits from old friends (my very best friend from the age of five to 12 is coming at the end of the month with her husband); moving house; and a trip to New York City.

Bring on May, then.

9:52 a.m. - 2003-04-30


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