When You Take Things Into Your Own Hands

I got fed up of not knowing what Slim was up to. So sue me, I am completely and shamelessly addicted to that boy.

That annoying, silly, temperamental, absolutely-perfect-for-me boy.

In fact, one could say I'm a little head over heels for him. As if you didn't know.

And the fact was that my last conversation with him had hurt me. It's never fun to feel as though you're being rejected, or as though the people you care for are slipping out of your acquaintance.

And Slim's behaviour terrified me. It filled me with doubt: had I been too much? Was he tired of me hanging around? What have I done wrong? Was this my fault?

So I left him well enough alone. For a full week. I've never gone that long without him, except when I was in France, and that was nearly intolerable for me, which was why I was so, so happy to be home.

Because like it or not, that kid grows on you. And soon, you start to miss him. Him and his dumb jokes and his angry remarks on humanity's stupidity, and his excited rants on things he loves and his sudden desires to play music, or pretend he's sword-fighting, or just...

Well, long story short, I missed him. And I was scared that I'd be like that indefinitely. Because he hadn't spoken to me or to anyone else since then. People kept asking me where he was, and I'd keep replying that I didn't know.

As they say, you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

Which was why I got fed-up today. I don't usually get this desperate, and I struggled to keep myself from sounding like it when I sent him my email. For one, I am leaving for Texas next week, to visit Lyx, and I would go another full week without him. I couldn't leave things as they were, not with that harsh tone still burned in my memory.

I'd buried myself for the past week into trying to solve problems with the making-of, and now that I was successful, I had to drop it off at his place anyway, and pick up DVDs that he'd copied from the school's student films database. He hadn't replied to my first attempt, but I wasn't going to take any silence for an answer this time:

From: CM
To: Slim D.
RE: Be warned!

I am done compiling the making-of, and it is AWESOME, and all in one piece, and the seams are invisible, and everything is BADASS.

I WILL bring it over sometime this weekend, so if you don't give me a time where you'll be there to exchange DVDs with me, I will BREAK INTO YOUR HOUSE AND STEAL THEM. FROM YOU.

So do yourself a favour and give me the best time for me to drop by, either Saturday or Sunday. It won't be long, and you can go back to whatever it is you do when you're not chilling with us.

CM

P.S. In case no one's been telling you already, we miss you, so give us a sign of life.

There. I was proud of myself. That email was direct, detached enough to be unthreatening, and still evocative enough of my (and our friends') concern for him. I know for a fact that I'm one of the very few people who strike up conversations with him online, so I was probably the only one to contact him of late. I needed to tell him how much we miss him at the parties. I doubt he knows it himself.

And then I clicked Send, and told myself he would never reply.

But then... he did.

From: Slim D.
To: CM
RE: Re: Be warned!

SUNDAY in the afternoon, POR FAVOR.

And maybe we could chill like an hour or two? I'm sure we have a lot to talk about ... Well, after one week at daycamp, I sure do have a lot to talk/bitch about! :-P

Also, speaking of daycamp, every week there's always like a story going on 'til the end of the week and it's us who present it to the kids. Next week I'm one of the characters and guess what? ... I'm playing a PIRATE :D :D

... So I was wondering if it's possible ―and only if it's possible― I could borrow your pirate costume. If it's too expensive or too intense nevermind, 'cause it will be stored at daycamp, so I understand if you say no.

Anyways, see ya soon.

...

I know. I know what you're all going to say.

'Two weeks of bullshit, and he sends one email and it makes her all cheerful and excited? She's a moron.'

And yes, you're absolutely right! I am A MORON.

Because with just that mail, he made me sickeningly happy again. Obviously he doesn't mind me that much, does he?

Rather than show him how happy I was that we were once again on speaking terms, I replied with a cool:

From: CM
To: Slim D.
RE: Re: Re: Be Warned

Noted. I'll bring the costume Sunday and we'll start by seeing if it fits you, and then we'll discuss terms of shared custody.

CM

P.S. I'll be there around 2, 3? Depends what time I wake up. I feel like I'm turning into Drew. D:

And that's that! We're back to normal!

Words cannot express how silly, stupid, moronic and slap-happy I feel.

Love,
CM