3rd times a charm?
When I last left you, my dear dear readers, I was on the edge of precipice staring downward into a dark abyss of a nervous breakdown!Ok... not really. But I was "freaking out" as you kids say now-a-days. I had a stalker (of sorts) on my hands. And I wasn't quite sure the correct course of action to take. At the end of my last post, I was debating whether or not I should give the poor fellow a call back. Well, I ended up returning his call. During the call, he asked me out. I acquiesced. The phone call wasn't all bad. We talked freely and easily. I was very surprised. Our upcoming date couldn't be as bad as all that.
But the next morning, the obsessive texts started again. Poor Mr. E wouldn't stop! Fortunately, I was saved from our date by a surprise call from efy. Mr. E was hired to work as a counselor in Utah! Huzzah's and hurrah's erupted from my soul in the highest of forms! Because our date was postponed, Mr. E insisted in a text that we write each other letters of affection while he counsels little children two states over.
I politely declined.
The next morning he was at it again; texting me before I had even lifted my sleeping head for my pillow. I decided it was time to go for the brutally honest route. The following is an exact quote of the text message I sent the poor fellow:
"Mr. E, I need to be honest about something.
The amount you text me is a lot. Overwhelmingly so...
It's just a little too intense for me..."
He replied with a very cordial response and wished me luck as I journeyed to the remote reaches of the Sierra Nevadas to attend girl's camp with my home stake.
Every night at camp, I slept in fear; terrified of a bear attack.(I'm going to give this next sentence a PG-13 rating, so brace yourselves) I didn't want to die a virgin; a fact I proclaimed to my fellow leaders one night when a bear was especially close to camp. My fears proved to be unfounded because, as you can now read, I am alive and well, and in one piece, with only one stalker text upon my return home.
And now, if you've journeyed through this post with me thus far, I'll reward you with a confession dear readers. I've been harboring a not-so-secret crush (if it can be qualified as much at this stage, I might even call it a crinkle right now) on a fellow efy counselor who just happens to be from my home stake. We'll call him Mr. Lowe. Since Mr. Lowe has been working every week since we first re-acquainted ourselves with each other(he just returned recently from a mission as well), the only interaction we've had is over facebook. At camp, my stake president promised he'd give me "the hook-up". (Wherever would I be without my fearless priesthood leaders?)
When I returned from camp, I had an invitation from him to go out for a bit of ice cream on my facebook wall. I replied in a comment with my number.... I'm trying very hard, and with much difficulty, to not over-analyze every text message since then.
I think Mr. E must've seen my facebook interactions with Mr. Lowe because his text messages and facebook chats have all together stopped. How convenient is that?
And now, I fear it is time for my to bid you adieu dear readers. I'm having surgery next week. I know not when I shall return to this dear blog. If it be soon, I can promise a heavily drug induced and hilarious post. I've already written my last will and testament (for realz). If I die, then I'll grant you the gift of my true identity... But that's only if I die.
xoxo
-the Romantic
Oh Ryan... You're making me blush.
1 comments:
Good luck! Don't die! Much as I'd like to know your true identity, I much prefer having your blog posts to read :) Looking forward to hearing from you when you've recovered!
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