Him Crazy

This is the knot I made with the ends of my hair. I know it may not look like much but I love the mess I made. Yeah, I'm prototypin' on my hair right now. Just in case, you didn't get that reference. I think I'm in love again. Let's do something out of the ordinary like catch a matinee'. Get it?

This is today's French braid. It's kind of crooked (intentionally) and the ends are wrapped and tucked as usual (I can't stand the way they stick out and just look like strays). I'm not sure where my sudden love affair with braids began but...This guy is strange, true, and different. He confuses me. I'm flattered by his candid outbursts. He tells me things I don't necessarily wanna know but at least he communicates well. His timing is time-LESS but I think it's kinda funny. In the middle of the story about his recent car accident, he blurts out,...well nevermind. That just might be t.m.i. I'm still stuck on that text message from yesterday. He says there's something about my voice and I love hearing that. He kinda blows up my phone but I revel in the attention. But every now and then, I wonder. Him might be crazy. He swears he tried to befriend me in high school and I blew him off. I don't remember any of this. I barely remember him--period. It disturbs me a little how well he seems to remember this seeing as how we graduated five years ago. I guess this could be considered a confidence booster but the analyst in me won't let me rest until I uncover the mystery. Obviously (well maybe not to you but trust me, Stevie Wonder wouldn't wonder), he wants to "know" me but...Either this is some of the best "G" I've ever heard OR him crazy! Or maybe I crazy. My top may not be screwed extremely tight but I don't think that's the matter here. I could be just so used to jibberish and jive.