Kinda Digging

'Kinda' isn't really even a word, is it? It's a slurring together of 'kind' and 'of'. It's a lot like 'sorta'. Which I don't think is a word either. 'Sort of'. 'Kind of'. Kinda sorta. They may not be words, but they mean the same thing. 'Somewhere between yes and no, but closer to yes than no. Almost yes, but not quite'. And that's where I am. Kinda. Sorta.

You'd think as a writer that I'd have a better grasp of the English language. Ah, no. Not so much. I remember back when I was learning how to write, my teachers all told me that once I got good I could be creative and develop my own style. I could take liberties with grammar, punctuation, and word choice. Welcome to my free style. Unfortunately, I'm not very poetic. If you think my writing is specious, wait until you hear me speak. There is articulate, then there's me. It's not that I stutter or stammer. I simply suffer from a disconnection between thought and actual speech. Some say it's from too much aspartame; I prefer to think I'm just stupid.

So where is all this going? Ok. I used her words back to her this weekend. I did what I promised I wasn't going to do. Of course, I only kinda did it. I threw that one little word in there and I think it may save my soul. 'I kinda dig you'. Oops. Ouch. Dammit. I'm cringing now just as I cringed as I heard myself say those words Monday afternoon. Jesus! Who said that? Aw, fuck. Me. I said it. And now I have to mean it. Kinda. Whew. Thank God for 'kinda'.

Against my better judgement, I'm somewhere between yes and no, but closer to yes than no. I don't know how it happened. I went from being solidly 'no, never' to 'kinda'. Oy. Let's just hope it stops here. I don't want to dig anyone. Not her. Not anyone. It's nothing personal. I'm just not in a good place for digging right now. I'm in a huge Me Phase and plan to stay this way indefinitely (until I'm published or ordained, whichever comes first). Yes, I am well aware it's a rationalization, but I'm cool with that at this point. I'm also cool enough with 'kinda'. It's not like I can take it back anyway. I said it. 'I kinda dig you'. Now I gotta. Kinda. At least until she stops digging me.

The good news is that I'm certain that this somehow heralds the beginning of the end. I don't care how much they profess to dig me or actually dig me for real, the moment I even entertain the thought that I might kinda dig them back, they stop digging me. It works every time and it's never worked in my favor. Until now. I didn't say it on purpose to get her to stop digging me. No, I really kinda dig her. That's no lie. I'm just saying that it might be a  fortuitous happenstance for a change. And if it puts me on the Break Up Diet for a week or ten days, so much the better. I'll call it a win-win - win. I get to continue my Me Phase, lose a couple pounds, and, since she no longer digs me, there's absolutely no guilt involved.

Right about now, I'm thankful for that 'kinda'. I don't have the energy for more than that, if I even knew what it all entailed. I kinda dig her. I sincerely don't see it going any farther than that. Of course, I didn't see 'kinda' coming. And I probably should have. At least before I said it out loud. Eh, well... I am closer to yes than no; sorta almost but not quite yes. In other words, I do kinda dig her. Crap.

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