Weird weekend

Radio Flyer asked me out for Friday night. I have not answered him. To be fair, I was drinking for 3 days straight, so I couldn't be expected to answer anyone about anything. I still think I have something going on, but looking at my planner and all the calendars in my life, I really have nothing. I should tell him whether I want to or not soon. Yes, I should.

Saturday night I went with my aunt to see Cheesy Fries. He had left work before I got there because his shift ended. I'm starting to think it's not worth the damage to my liver to keep on trotting out there.

But neither of those things were weird. Those things are both pretty normal. No, the weird thing happened on Friday evening. I had been drinking maybe a lot. Just maybe. My phone rings and I didn't recognize the number. I knew it wasn't the Statie boyfriend, who called last week. He's in the 518 area code. This was a different number. I answered...and it was Bootcamp Boyfriend. He's leaving bootcamp. I guess he cracked under the pressure or something of bootcamp. He's getting discharged this week and flying back to Syracuse. I'm standing there in some sort of shock. This guy was tough, mentally. He played all sorts of head games. He doesn't properly express feelings and generally is an asshole. Somehow, someone at the bootcamp got into his head and screwed him all up. I was worried for a bit because no matter how much I hate him, I still don't want anything bad to happen to him. He assured me that he was okay and that he was coming back east. He also told me that I was the only girl for him. Uh, what now? What the hell are you talking about? Then last night, I was off doing stuff (watching a movie I will blog about in a second) and he IMed me. He just left a message of nonsense, but still. Now he's in my brain. He's in my dreams again. In my dreams, he's always fabulous. He is always all those things I wanted him to be and all the things he was before whatever went wrong with him went wrong.

I just don't understand why I can bury the thoughts of Weston Footballer, The Reject, Maine Man and The Statie, but I can't get him out of my head. He's in there. It was a long and hard relationship, one that you would think that I would want to bury in that place in my head where things that make me sad go. But it's out in the open, rolling around and causing trouble. My brain clearly hates me too, because it's bringing out all the good times we had together, not the horrible times that I cried my eyes out and just hoped that he would either love me more or drop dead so that I didn't have to deal with him. I know I'm different now and it shouldn't bother me. But he's the same. Bootcamp hasn't changed him into the guy that he so badly needed to be 3 years ago. Just get out of my brain, Bootcamp Boyfriend. Get. Out.

The movie I watched last night was Wristcutters: A love story. And it was. It was about love in the afterlife, after all. And I felt so tingly and sad all at once. I think about who I was, again in relation to the Bootcamp Boyfriend and I'm so glad that I'm out.