Except, we're in the exact same place we were -before- we kissed. Someone, please explain that to me, because I'm not sure I understand how something that monumental ends up being so utterly pointless. She loves this other guy, and I love her, and this is all understood, but then we -kissed-, and, well... she still loves that other guy, and I still love her, and oh my god, my brain is going to eat itself. What -exactly- am I supposed to gather from this? We haven't talked about the kiss since, but we're hanging out, but she still flirts with him like it's her bloody job, and she says she loves me but I don't know if she means it as a friend, or what, because I'm confused and I can't read her mind and she's sending me mixed messages and I'm torn between jumping her and bitch-slapping her.
Ah, love. Sweet and beautiful and perfect, much in the same way as getting run over by an eighteen-wheeler is sweet and beautiful and perfect.
I should go to bed.
But I don't know what to -do.-
Maybe I'm blowing all of this out of proportion, and we only kissed because she was high on life and nicotine, and she really just wants to be friends. Or maybe I should be reading -more- into it, though I can't imagine how that's possible. Should I talk to her? Should I forget about the whole thing in it's entirety? Should I slap a sticker on my forehead proclaiming "LOSER" to the world and hide my person in a cardboard box along the side of the street?
Yes. I think a move towards the latter is in order.