He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. And so does he. And that guy over there as well.

If life were happening on Capeside, my name would be Dawson. The demise of the WB (also known as the forming of the CW) still worries me. But that's neither here nor there.
How angry I was when Joey chose Pacey! (And how lame is it that I still care? Except I'm even more steamed that stupid Felicity let Noel slip through her fingers.) Still, Dawson overcame. And I even get that maybe that's how the series had to end. Dawson still needed all that angst so he could keep his artistic career alive, right?
I'm happy Dawson and I are twins, and I think I'm most comfortable with unrequited love. Except when I'm on the other end, and people love me and it's unexpected. They never tell you how to deal with that. Everyone wants to be liked and accepted and appreciated. But sometimes it just knocks your socks off-- especially when it's sudden, and you're busy with your own pining. Oh my gosh. Did I just become Felicity? I've made it to the epicenter of a love polyhedron!