Sometimes I’m stoic, but occasionally I become a ‘feelings guy’. Whenever this happens I am more likely to detect and recoil at the rancid stench of a bad break-up. Conscience nags like a college girl as I stare at the associated phonebook entry and wonder why I’m not calling it. I regret things I did, said and neglected on purpose or absentmindedly. An itch of sadness accompanies the idea that I could actually have squandered the big L-word experience for real this time, a feeling magnified by the stale half loaf The Ex turned out to be.
(That introduction is not an invitation to shrinks to start naming psychological complexes and disorders.)
Without leaving room for a debate on what I was not smoking those days, let us just accept that I suddenly and inexplicably became very courageous and got down to texting Ailis. It was a disinterested text for all intents and purposes, but there was real concern hidden in there somewhere.
“howyadoin” Out of character. I don't use shorthand.
“LOL go hang” the elaborate reply.
Talk of a mixed message. Women! But at least it was a message with a LOL somewhere in it. Lots of love. Right? Think BIG, they say.