Surrealistic Cookie Munching

Should mark down today as first in history as I’m working a paper and it’s not due till next week! I’ve been baking cookies all this early evening and thankfully this batch came out better than the last batch. I’m divvying up the cookies as I’m going to ship some to Patrick, as promised.

The boys are home tonight with their friends, sucking down microbeers while watching the fight on HBO. Because we have vaulted ceilings, everything is amplified. The land line rings and Jeremy (roommate #3) yells t (though I”m about 15′ away in the dining room working on said paper) that it’s for me. I can’t hear due to the echoing and when I ask who it is, I get: “Your boyfriend!”

Oh. My boyfriend. Forgot I had one of those.

Conversation was light and fluffy as I talked about making cookies, writing a paper and the boys drinking while watching the fight. As if I’m in a dream, Patrick starts chatting and there is no tension. In many ways I feel incredulous about whether or not it is simply just me being insane and I’m imagining things. I don’t know. I still believe the bloom to be off, but I find the irony that the more I pull away emotionally and interactively, the more he starts to pursue me.

I will never, ever, figure out relationships.
Ever.