What are the odds?

What are the odds that one of your favorite artists works with one of mine?
Don't read too far into it.
What are the odds?
Regardless of the likelihood,
it doesn't mean anything.
It says something though.

Bobby pins

The jewelry is nice but how about a one pound box of bobby pins?
Talk about a gift that keeps on giving.
Thank you.
Next.

You should read this

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/01/books/review/david-brooks-second-mountain.html
My boss recommended it to me and it's great.
I think you'd love.
I'm sorry for the way I handled things.
I hope you're well.
I think what you're doing is cool.
I hope you find what you're looking for.
I loved My Brilliant Friend.
How did you know?
You always know.
Read the book.

Ciao.

This show

This show is great.
It makes me think
and in another life,
I'd send you a message.
A read receipt would give you away
and bring back a small thrill.
Away we'd go.
Wherever you decided
because whatever friendship we had was built around you.
Your convenience.
You said you we're friends
but reached for intimacy that is not friends.
And I stupidly gave it to you.
Tell me I'm wrong.
What are you afraid of?
Caring about someone?
Admitting that you don't care about someone?
Acknowledging that someone means something?
Being seen by someone?
I miss your attention.
I miss those read receipts.
Small proof that
even just for a second
I had your attention.
And until you send a response,
I know you're thinking about it.
About me.
Yea. I miss that.
So I'm watching this show
and I have these impulses
grabbing bits of my attention.
I'm getting better at letting them go
but they find their way here
to a blank page.
It's easy.
What made you think I'd like this show?
What does that say?
What are your thoughts?
Do I remind you of her?
This amazing character.
Too smart for her own good.
Too stubborn for most men.
Is that it?
And she's Italian.
She's beautiful.
'She'd make my mind blur.'
That's it.
You made my mind blur.
Another way to say you're too much,
my (old (brilliant)) friend.

Dates = Effort

I have a date tomorrow.
I'm nervous.
I'm second guessing.
I'm sad.
I want it to be you.
I hate that about you.
And it's not.
Thank God it's not.
It's never going to be.
I made certain that it'll never be.
Because it's not meant to be.
And I'm sad this is the way it has to be.

So I'm going on a date tomorrow.
Putting myself out there again.
I'm making the effort.
Our dates were never an effort.

If you ever read this

If you ever read this,
I want you to know
I think what you're doing is great.

If you ever read this,
I want to say
I think we could've done better.

If you ever read this,
I want you to understand
it hurt me to care about you.

So if you ever read this,
know that I miss whatever we had.
And I compare every date to whatever we had.
And I pray to God someday I find something better than whatever we had.

And lastly,
if you ever read this,
I'd love to know your thoughts.
But I bet you'll never read this.

Facts vs Feelings

I couldn't sleep.
We slept together.
I thought I was special.
You made me feel special.
Can't argue the facts.
Can't argue with feelings.