Last night

...I heard a maybe and it went something like this:

Pecker: ...and ace my Math exam next week
Pecker: and maybe go to Cali after that
DA: maybe?
DA: you mean not sure?
Pecker: yeah
DA: o...k
DA: i will just have to work on my waiting disease

What? A maybe? I wanted to whine, "what do you mean 'maybe'?" But I didn't. I left it at that and immediately tucked away Excitement and Anticipation and my little itinerary.

I have heard one-too-many maybe-s in my life. It's as if I were five and I aksed my parents if they were going to throw me a birthday party with the blow-up castle thingy that my friends and I could bounce around in, and Dad nonchalantly replies with "maybe."

Well, I am more than nonchalant. I am aloof now. I know what maybe-s are like. Maybe-s mean 50-50, unsure, kinda changing my mind, set your self up for disappointment. This time, I will spare myself the grief of Maybe's outcome, because I don't care anymore.

I don't take this against him, because I am fully aware of the possible hindrances to the trip. And I'm cotent that we're even able to talk every night. Priceless, he said.

However, I will secretly mope this weekend because I have every right to. I will ponder the maybe a little more and beat myself over the head with it.

Why?
Because maybe-s suck!