A "Holy shit!" moment

There are not many times in my life where I let out a vulgarity in public, however mild it may seems. I like to believe that my brain has control of my mouth. But yesterday, I found myself covering my mouth between the doors of the train, hoping that I didn't shout it out loud.

It has Dylan. My ex whom I can't seemed to get over. At least I think it was Dylan. There I was, mind my own business, getting out of the train to go catch Clerks II in a cinema, when I spotted that bugger getting into the train.

Pause. Here's a little history between us: We got together, broke up, got together and broke up again. Very soap opera. And recently, in my weakest of moments, I remade contact (electronically) again but we have neither spoken nor met up. Then I found out from unofficial sources that Dylan wasn't single anymore.

That was weeks ago. I went through a rudimentary suicidal phase of watching every episode of The O.C. and finally got over it. Then I had to go see a Kevin Smith movie.

I think the stars above are punk'd-ing me again.