Once upon a time in 2005, there was this guy I never dated.
We didn’t date for about a month.
It went something like this: first I sort of thought liked him but then he grew a beard and started wooing me [or so I thought] and even though facial hair makes me think itchy thoughts, I was seduced against my will [and better judgment], but then as soon as I started liking him again, he realised he’d won the game and moved on with his life. All before I had a chance to fully pick apart my own feelings on the matter, so in other words…
And he is the most exasperating guy I never dated. His name is Brad but don’t expect to ever see it spelled that way; he much prefers “bRAD.” And when he types, his sentences look something like this: “taking caRe of Aged granDparents” or “snoRings mAke noisy sounDs” or “dRinking root beer tAstes gooD.” I suppose he thinks life’s more rad that way…
Anyway, in most situations, I would never see such a person again. Unfortunately for me, I have a dear friend who lives in his same house, so avoiding Brad is completely out of the question. The good news is, we have both successfully blocked that month out of our conscious memories, so seeing him on occasion is much less awkward than one might think. [I actually like him as a human now more than I ever did when we weren’t dating.]
The point of this post is not to dredge up old memories or make Poor Kyle feel jealous. [Making Poor Kyle feel jealous is nigh on impossible. He just doesn’t have the jealous gene. It’s kind of infuriating sometimes.] The point is…
…discussing people with multiple personality disorders. A problem from which, though not yet diagnosed, I am quite certain Brad suffers.
See, throughout the month when I wasn’t dating Brad, I learned a lot about him–all of the different hims. There would be times–wake boarding or taking photos or speaking Hungarian or just being a decent kind of fellow–when he really was rad:
Except maybe the news that he takes good pictures and started his own website (before me, dang it all). Once I had a Brad Burnham original framed and sitting on my dresser, but I tossed it long ago [not because it wasn’t lovely]. So when he becomes famous, I can tell people I threw away a million-dollar photograph. And that’s saying something. But I digress. Do swing by and check it out [after all, lending him more traffic is the least I can do for writing this post about himselves]–he sells his work, and if I ever decide to purchase one of his pieces, it would be this: the one I like to call “F
inding Faith Against a Yellow Wall.”