:I’m In Love With A Stripper:


Ah, the good old days.

Today, I could pen a song that sounds exactly like the 2007 hit song by T-Pain, but this time entitled “I’m In Love With Nostalgia.”

For the past few+ weeks, I have had an astoundingly nasty case of nostalgia. My love affair with nostalgia remains superbly intact, but this run in was not easy.

There is one person. If I could turn back time, I totally would because, man, would he have been worth it or what. But then I think, you know, Elaine, if you hadn’t done what you did back then, you wouldn’t be who you are now. Touche, self, touche.

Back to that one person. I saw someone who looked like him and then BAM! Messaged him on Facebook. It really is that easy. I had no idea he was even in the country, let alone paying attention to any of my messages, but guess what? He was, and he was in town.

After a few dates  where we reminisced about  the White Stripes, how my best friend liked his best friend, how I met him through a person I worked with at the ice cream shop and him (trying to) teaching me stick shift, I realized something. We have both grown up. This nostalgia made me feel all tingly inside and I couldn’t get rid of it. Every smile on my face, every butterfly in my stomach. I hadn’t felt that way in months.

With this most recent bout of nostalgia, I was sadly left with a broken heart in a Volvo (see previous entry)  while he almost exactly recited what I had said to him almost 10 years ago.

“Our lives are going in different directions, that is the common denominator.” “Elaine, you are not a sad girl. Don’t freak out about things that aren’t real.” I almost punched him for that last one. I mean how DARE he act as if my feelings aren’t valid?

After saying “This sucks” multiple times and calling him an asshole, we finally got out of the car. I insisted that he didn’t need to walk me to the door. He ignored that request.

After about a minute of good lucks and goodbyes, I ran up the stairs and slammed the door behind me. Probably not the most adult thing I had done, but did I care at that moment? Absolutely not.

Nostalgia be damned.




Tagged: , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: