I have serious San Francisco nostalgia this week. Even though I have my last week of classes and then finals, I was *this* close to buying a $200 ticket for next weekend. I think this warm weather is doing it to me. There are motorcycles out on the streets now and I am daydreaming of the ocean, the hills, and sunbathing/beer-drinking/dog-watching in Dolores Park.
This is the feeling I get when I think of San Francisco:
Just got off the phone with The Ex. I realized it had been a long time since we talked and I caught him on gchat and asked if it was a good time to talk. This happens to me a lot now. I get to gchatting and then it's like, "Wait...we could be having a real-time conversation, you know. Should we be crazy and ...chat-chat?"
It's hard to believe that we're so fully separated now. We're in the phase that I dreaded but also wanted, where we are supportive and friendly but have no idea what's going on in each others' lives. I guess that's what you want with a clean break-up, but it's jarring to hear someone say, "So tell me what's going on with your life...you dating anyone?" The Ex makes it hard too because he's always in a rush, and so conversations like these just beget very superficial conversations, and I hang up the phone still wondering how he's doing. At the end of our brief conversation he told me he loved me. He does that from time to time, and it always catches me off guard. One minute he's telling me about this new sandwich place where you can get outrageous toppings (like mozzarella sticks...MOZZARELLA STICKS!!!) and then, pulling me back into the last embrace where I felt really, truly loved.
Man, that fucken killed me.
So yes, San Francisco is on the brain this week, even though I am really excited to party party party all summer long in New York. I am not keeping my promise to myself not to obsess over the latest boy, but it is hard. I really want to see him again but I want to exude patience and confidence and play the Tao of Steve: Be Desireless, Be Excellent, Be Gone...