Monday, January 19, around 8 PM
I am an asshole. I am a dork. I am the world's dorkiest boyfriend of the world's most beautiful, most perfect princess. God. Seriously. I am such a loser, I don't even deserve to have a girlfriend, let alone the most beautiful and perfect one.
Why did I leave a message? Why? Why not just hang up when the machine picked up, like I usually do? I felt so stupid.
"Uh, hi, Mia?"
Uh, hi yourself, Loser!
"Yeah, it's Michael."
No shit!
I'm dying inside. Dying from the shame and humiliation of it all. I just miss her voice, MISS HER, so much and I want her to call me and reassure me that she isn't dead or maimed somewhere. What is happening to me? My head is going crazy. I've never been like this before. I'm acting like.... like MIA!!!!
Will I ever get the hang of this having-a-girlfriend thing?
Is she mad at me or something?
All right, Moscovitz, you have to get a hold of yourself. Stop typing in your journal and go play Doom or something. That is an excellent idea. Nothing like Doom to relax the nerves and clear the head!
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