And yet, things stay the same. It’s been three months. I know because I count them down on the calendar. I’m not obsessed with him. Or maybe I am, but I don’t really think that’s it either. Ryan and I had had a convergence; we met in a place and time that would forever leave an indelible mark in the road map of my life. It’s more than just my attraction to him. He’s mentally unstable, that’s clearly obvious and not something I need to bring into my life, or Javi’s. But I haven’t been like this about anyone. Ever. Not even Javi’s dad-- which at fourteen, feelings can be pretty intense. I thought I’d loved him. And he sworn he’d loved me. Until the baby came. Then it was hasta luego, it’s been good knowing ya. I’d cried rivers for nine months straight. I’m sure the pregnancy hormones hadn’t helped. But with time and age I realized what a little loser I’d slept with and am now happy he’s no longer a part of our lives. I haven’t even been back to Chai Time.
