I woke up at about 8:00 this morning, in spite of the fact that I had gotten home at around 4 am and gone to sleep at approximately 4:30. It's not difficult to understand why...anxiety and also a little bit of hunger. As E.B. White wrote in the novel Charlotte's Web, "when your stomach is empty and your mind is full, it's always hard to sleep." I ran over what I was going to say in my mind perhaps a thousand times this morning alone. Getting up this early actually did very little to help my anxiety...if anything it only worsened it. At any rate, I basically kept myself busy around the house, doing this or that, until it was time to make the drive out to Monrovia. I arrived at Katie's apartment at approximately 11:15, and nervously trotted up the stairs. I knocked on the door and her friend Roxanne answered, telling me that Katie was still getting ready. She then left, and I sat down at the table and waited. Katie came out and, after a quick discussion of where to go, we agreed upon Mimi's Cafe.

The waiter there was pleasantly apathetic toward us. Meaning simply that he made certain that we had everything we needed but didn't bother us with questions about the temperature of our eggs every five minutes. There was quite a bit of food, including these huge blueberry muffins. We talked about somewhat banal topics such as how the best part of the muffins is the top, and I regaled her with tales of that episode of Seinfeld wherein Elaine's former boss steals her idea about opening a store that sells only muffin tops (Top of the Muffin to You!) Then I made some comment about how the food gives us something to do during the moments of awkward silence. She responded that there was no awkward silence, to which I replied, "Well...not for you."

I tried to find some point at breakfast to work in the topic of "Hey, I like you" but couldn't find a moment to do so. We left the restaurant without me bringing it up and went over to Toys R Us so she could buy a birthday present for her nephew. The entire time I just kept repeating silently to myself, "Hey..I like you. I like you. Did I mention that I like you?" but never being able to get the words out.

We left Toys R Us and I began to panic. I began to think, "I have to do this!" We drove back to her apartment and she began to gather her things for her drive up to Big Bear. At that point I went into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror, attempting to will myself to say the words. This might sound ridiculous, but I'm fairly certain that not once in my life have I taken the initiative and told a girl how I felt about her. That might not necessarily be the case, but I can't recall any other times. Normally I just keep it bottled up until the girl takes said initiative.

At any rate, I emerged from the bathroom and had the words on the tip of my tongue, but could not get them out. We walked together down the stairs and out to my car at which point, I forced the words from my mouth. In spite of all the rehearsing I'd done for the last three months, it ended up going something like this, "I'm not exactly sure about the best way to say this, so I'm just going to come out and say it. I like you. Ok...I like you quite a bit, and I have since sometime in the middle of May. I know that when we first met, there was all this sort of joking by everyone about me having a crush on you. But the fact is that I didn't...not until May. I sort of began to notice it the night we went and saw Star Wars, but didn't actually realize it until that night we went to Denny's...the night before my car was destroyed. Anyway...I like you, and I'm not entirely certain what to do with that. It all more or less depends on you." (To get more of a feel for how it actually sounded, try inserting an "um" or a "like" or a "you know" after every other word.) Then, I braced myself...the moment that had been in the back of my mind for nearly 4 months was at last upon me, and I was waiting to see what would happen.

I wish that I could tell you that she grabbed me and kissed me, or that she at least told me that the sentiment was mutual. She had this look on her face, and although it was a kind, adoring look I could tell that it was not the look for which I have been hoping all summer. "Do you want me to respond right now?" she asked, and I could hear it in her voice. I replied something along the lines of, "Well...I think I already have an idea of how you feel..." She smiled, with perhaps a hint of regret there and said, "And how do you think I feel?"

I could feel my voice breaking, but was determined not to lose my composure there. "I'm pretty certain it's not mutual..." She confirmed this with a nod of her head, at which point I felt the need to sit down on the wall. I have to be honest, it was more or less the response I was expecting...not hoping for...just expecting. I had tried to be optimistic and not let my normal pessimistic worldview gain a foothold, but in this case, optimism did not pay off.

We then talked for a while about where do we go from here sort of thing...to be honest, that parts sort of up in the air. I mean, I do care for her deeply, and it originally started as a friendship with no ulterior motive. But now this might sort of hang like a cloud over it...I don't know. In the past, I've had fairly good experience with maintaining friendships with those who have rejected me (Bussy, for example) but the question is...am I going to be able to be content with it? This is far more than a simple crush, to be certain.

After the conversation, we said good-bye, with a long hug that I didn't want to end and then I drove off, not certain of what to do. As I told Shane, part of me is just my normal apathetic yet paradoxically anxious self, while another part of me is on the verge of tears. Actually, I'm not embarassed to say that I've gone a little past the verge at some points today. Not bawling or weeping, mind you...just sort of teary eyed. Anyway, I guess I'm sort of confused by the whole thing now. I mean, obviously I still care a great deal about her, so I honestly don't know where to go from here. I certainly don't want to be as pathetic as Eric Bennett, but at the same time should I really just give up the pursuit here? No good thing ever came easy....

At any rate, as if my mood wasn't low enough, I went to Border's in Pasadena and purchased yet another album by The Innocence Mission, who are, incidentally, among my top five favorite bands. But their music tends to be...introspective and such. Alisa and Christy call my music "whiny" but I don't know if that is necessarily the case. But, anyway, I guess that's the end of the story. Now I need to figure out where to go from here.