July 5, 2008

So, today I was trying my hand at recreating dishes from Chakiz's house-and I sort of prevailed. I made refried beans which I actually call black-bean spread, since that's technically what it's called.

And I'll be damned if it didn't taste good! Not as good as the pro-kind that Rudy's mum makes, but that's to be expected; I never was taught how to do it, and I didn't have a recipe, I was working from memory of the three seconds Chakiz took to tell me how to make them before ushering me into the tent while we were camping.

I made them, though. :D Now I can have bean spread even if he never wants to see me again. I just wasn't expecting all the mess it made!

Speaking of Chakiz, I made a realization today. I don't want to be done with him. I haven't made a single pass at any guy since I started with him. I have no interest in other men. They just don't live up to Chakiz. I don't know.

It could be caused by his being so standard towards me; it could be because he just didn't care one way or the other what I felt or wanted. Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment and only like guys who don't give a damn about me.

Shit. I hope to hell not, because this could be a looooonng lifetime for me.

Still, secretly, in the back of my mind, I wish that he does think of me once in a while, even though the more rational side of me takes over and says "you know you're setting yourself up to get hurt, right? He did say that he just wanted to enjoy the time before he left, and to 'see what happened' from there."

But then my stupid romantic side says "but maybe..." And then I spend two hours crying because I just don't know. I hate it.

I think he's going to be hard to beat though, if he beat Kizisini.

And he did. Ohhh, did he ever. Kiz never let me touch his guitar, and Chakiz didn't mind, in fact he taught me chords on his guitar.

This is going to sound stupid, and I'd hate to believe it could never be possible, but I really want him to call me when he gets back... I want to know if he cares at all for me the way I think I might care for him.

And then, says my stricter, rational me:"You know, if you say that and hope for it, he'll come back, party for a week with his band like he repeatedly said he was going to, and then he'll leave again without even saying a word to you, and you'll spend all summer ignoring other boys just to be with someone who doesn't even think twice about you in a summertime. You'll be crushed, you know."

I fucking hate my rational side. I hate it for what it is and what it makes me feel. I hate that I can't hope for ten minutes without breaking into a bout of tears because of it.

"Shut the hell up, rational side. You know nothing about humans, do you?"

Gods. I hate being human.