And

Then I was wearing all my new clothes looking smashing indeed just standing at the register when *pinch* my back and *hey* oh hey ex-girl... uh... complete the transaction/look around/leave and

Then I was locking up a bike by the store and thinking "i must look like a consumer-whore" when *look-up* and there she is mouthing the words "shopping" so I *smile* and

Then I pause/gather myself/chase her down the street but she is *not* in the coffee shop and she is *not* at the corner so I stop and I call her but I do NOT leave a message I do NOT call again... well she did the same to me last week so...

So then I feel it, that sinking that starts at the sacrum and drops to your knees, pulling everything close for a moment which heats up your eyes and your cheeks and the tension must break so you transfer the charge to whatever is nearby. Slam door/kick wall/punch thing/kick other thing/repeat and

Then you are outside yourself, an abstraction composed of undergraduate psych theory and agnosticism, cursing the stages of grief, the chemical bastard of love, the wolf of addiction to her shadowy doe-eyed lamb-face. wallowing in teenage poetry you check out your hat in the mirror.

It looks really good.

Um, so... you threw a tantrum?

Note to self: **** it.

uhhh.....wha?

Sorry, maybe its just my bad english. :oriental::P