Stolen

About a week ago, our dearest Chandler slipped into the conversation that he's 27 years old. 27 isn't that old, but according to the "half-your-age-plus-seven" rule, he can't date anyone younger that 20.5.  I barely make the cut.

I'd almost given up hope, but I was still excited for him to be on my basketball team for the tournament. Halfway though the tournament, he twisted his ankle. (What a grandpa!) He was out for the rest of the game. My instincts were so flock to his side, tend to his wound, and hold an ice pack on his ankle. Unfortunately, I was a team captain so I couldn't step out at all.

Like clockwork, my friend Cassidy decided she was tired of basketball and wanted to sit out of the tournament. Sit out... next to Chandler. The entire duration of the tournament, I was so distracted by Cassidy and Chandler, giggling over each other, basically falling in love right before my eyes.

After the tournament, a huge group of use decided to go to our favorite local burger joint, until Chandler said, "Are you sure there's enough room for all of us?" Cassidy chimed in, "Yeah, I think I'm going to go get sushi instead." Chandler, "I could go for some sushi too right now." And then they sailed off into the sunset together, trampling over my delicate little heart.

What a letdown,
Kitty