Well. I feel just kinna shitty.
Went to meet Trisa at Starbucks while she was studying. Seemed like we had a generally pleasant conversation when she took miniature breaks from the books. But since I didn't want to distract her too much, I looked for something with which to occupy myself. Asking Trisa to lend me a pencil and paper, I began working on something very nostalgic.
From forth grade to around seventh grade, a couple friends and I had this sort of doodle hobby. We drew these immense mural-like things made up of multiple sheets of notebook paper that were kind of like concept sketches for side-scrolling video game levels--entirely 2d, featuring floating platforms and side view-only ninjas and aliens running about them.
So just for fun, and as it seemed the perfect kind of idle-doodle thing, just to kind of occupy myself until Trisa finished studying and we maybe went and did something, I drew a small version of one of those murals--showing here:
As you can see, it got a bit stranger than the sort of thing I described myself drawing in elementary school.
I got pretty caught up in it--then, suddenly Trisa started packing up her things.
"Here, wanna keep this?" I offered her my little artwork.
"You mean you don't want this great piece of art?" I said jokingly.
"No, I wouldn't want to deprive you of that as you were so obviously caught up in it,"
So I folded it into my pocket and held out her pencil, "Want your pencil back?"
This really threw me, "Have I soiled it?"
"Have I soiled it with my unworthy touch?"
"No. You were obviously so into it I wouldn't want to deprive you. Good-bye," And she began to walk out.
"Hey wait a minute!" I stood up, a little unbalanced by her abrupt dismissal.
"You wanna watch a movie or something?"
"No thanks," she walked out. I had to almost run to catch up with her--she was beating a mighty hasty retreat. It caught me so off guard that the only things I managed to ask her about were if she was available tomorrow or Monday. And I must say she did not seem very thrilled by the prospect of hanging out on either of those days.
Of course, I very well could have misunderstood. In fact, as I walked back to my car, puzzling over it, it occurred to me that in fact maybe nothing had really just happened at all. The only sure thing was that I had a very hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
On the drive back, I realised I had totally forgotten to thank her for purchasing a ticket to the Morrissey concert. This is actually the second one she’s bought for me--and combined, she'd spent about a hundred thirty dollars on me, just because she's sweet.
I felt horrible, of course. So I left a message on her voice mail when I came back, thanking her profusely.
So now I'm feeling very wretched, kinna lonely, and very, very confused.