Damn straight, I'm emo!

I just posted the following as a comment on Nakakagulo, which you should go read right now. Not only is it a story that will draw you in, but it will give some context to what's below, although it does stand on its own:

When I was 16, my friend Jeff introduced me to the two girls who lived on either side of his house after school one day. He told me the next day that they thought I was cute and invited me to hang out with them that weekend.

I went over, and we all hung out for a while (and some other people, too). We ended up heading over to the house next door where this girl Laura lived. Eventually everyone left but us, and she lit her fireplace. We were sitting there, and then we turned to each other, and this sight I remember clearly:

She closed her eyes, and leaned towards me, her mouth slightly open. It seemed I instinctively knew what to do, even though I'd never kissed a girl.

It was wonderful.

Before I left her house that night, she did tell me one thing: her friend Erica (Jeff's other neighbor) was the one who really seemed to like me and the one I was supposed to end up with. The funny thing is, when I first met Laura and Erica, Erica is the one I thought more attractive.

That night, though, Laura and I clicked, and I felt a little guilty when I found out the situation with Erica.

When I was 19, I met a girl named Anne. Anne had a boyfriend who was going to school about 3 hours from where we lived.

From the night we met, we talked and talked. And talked. It didn't hurt that she was gorgeous, and cute, and liked the same kind of punk rock and ska music that I did.

We would sit up on my bed all night and just share our hearts. A little cuddling went on, too.

One night, we were laying side-by-side on my twin dorm room bed, and she propped herself up on her elbow and leaned over, putting her lips on mine.

I laid there like stone. After a minute she moved away. I said I wanted to kiss her. Badly. But it wouldn't be fair to her boyfriend. I told her to make sure it was what she wanted.

The next day I remember walking around town with my heart about to crack through my sternum and drag me home to call her. When I finally did talk to her later that night, she told me she wanted to stay with her boyfriend. As much as that kind of sucked for me, I agreed with her decision.

A month or two later, she pretty quickly and deftly distanced herself from me, without giving me warning or reason.

I didn't really understand until three years later, when a good (female) friend of mine told me she thought my girlfriend was jealous of our friendship and that we should distance ourselves. I was hurt some by this, but agreed.

It was two years after that when I found out that, at the time, my friend had been secretly wanting me to break up with that girl to date her instead.

I am fucking tired.

It was 60 degrees out again today, and I had a 7am lecture. For our 8:30 seminar, we ended up watching half of The Smartest Guys In the Room, a documentary about the Enron collapse. Interesting. Isaac started telling me that trickle-down economics works. Um, no. Econ 101: those with less "disposable" income are more likely to spend what they got rather than invest it. Expenditures drive economic growth and job creation, not investments. Yes, investments and expenditures are both necessary, and yes, increasing investment will potentially result in growth, but it's not as robust or cost-effective as increasing spending. There is the little worry of inflation, though, as well.

Anyway, I was tired out after my day, and the temperature is supposed to drop 30 degrees tomorrow, so I went out and rode 15 miles in shorts and a t-shirt. I stopped for dinner at the Fireside Lounge up in Andersonville; it was pretty good.

I had a headwind all the way back, and I just got out of the shower and I'm sitting here in my bathrobe typing this.

How are there so many beautiful girls everywhere that are either dating someone or (probably) too young or smoke (or have nothing in common with me)?

Like I said, I am fucking tired.