<< the subtext of our conversation >>
2003-01-03 - 2:59 p.m.

I just got the following email from a friend of mine from graduate school:

Sweetie!

Did you hear whom I ran into at the Charlotte airport? Your old flame, David Taylor! What a bizarre little world it is. I was running to my flight, and who was sitting at a Starbucks eating a sticky bun? (Doesn't it seem like my job to eat sticky buns?) Well, we had a nice little chat before I left for NYC (for the MLA). He told me that he's still madly in love with you, can't believe what an idiot he was, and would kill or die to have you back. (Well, he didn't actually say it, but I could tell it was the subtext of our conversation. Sweetie, you know that we have to interpret the words of the reticent.)

It takes a real friend to write an email like that one.

I'll spare you the next paragraph, which was about all the homosexual lovin' he got on New Year's. He ALWAYS gets the lovin'.

Note: The ex in question actually did call me up about a month ago and ask me to marry him, but they all do that. They may not think much of me while we're going out, but about three years later I start to look REAL good.

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