Musings

People talk about signs like suddenly they know the answer to that one question they've been mulling over for a period of time. What is a sign? Is it something we look for? Are there such things as actual signs? Are they just coincidences? Is fate real? What is fate? I can't stop thinking about sand and the stars at night and naked angels and umbrella and that female singer that sounded like someone on tv (or maybe just Rosario Dawson but I don't think so) and...jager, she wants revenge, stupid kiddie beach chairs, striped sweaters and that blue polo shirt that was perfect and hugs and the rain and road trips and camping in Montana and northern Wyoming and horse farms and fresh milk and eggs...and traveling the world together and the beach at night and...you.

I hope we're ok. I hope you get back and we're ok after this. I can't keep myself from thinking that it was a sign from God that "She Wants Revenge" was the one that came up on my facebook feed, and not Stars or anything else. I mean, I would have looked at the profile no matter what, but...would I even have noticed She Wants Revenge if it didn't show up on the feed? It wasn't even the first thing on the list. And the words to their songs...I just...I don't even know. They're perfect. They're us. I can't help but hope that you're thinking about me. That you're 'heavy for two days' because you're thinking of it. That you're sinking, and I'm at the bottom. That you're falling for me against your better judgment...because isn't that what love is? It goes against all better judgment. I'm probably just being silly. It won't happen. But...I can't help but hope that it will, against my better judgment and against all rationality and logic. I must be losing my mind to think that things will ever be ok or normal or the same or anything ever again other than odd and awkward and distant. But...I still hope. Please. Please let us be ok.

I've been having night terrors since Sunday, and it's been really awful because I'm alone. I used to have them when I was a little girl, always the entire week before the new school year started, like clockwork, but at least my parents were there and it helped a little...the complete panic I used to feel was just...terrible, but they stopped around fourth or fifth grade, and I though I'd never experience that again. I've had minor night terrors a few times over the last 5 or so years where the sense of panic isn't quite as bad, but it was always while I was at home or with Ken so I at least wasn't alone when I woke up. I can't stand it, it just makes it so stressful to go to bed, which really saddens me because I love sleeping so much. Last night I hung out at the boys' house, drinking (naturally...but this time we got pina colada mix and made them, yum!), and when 2am came around SQ was like, "K, I'm off to bed..." and Jon was like, "Yeah...I'm tired..." and I was like, "K, good night, guys," and didn't move and Jon was like, "eh?" and I was like, "Oh, no, it's ok, I'm just going to hang out for a while longer," because I couldn't drive home yet and I didn't want to go to sleep yet because I just didn't feel like waking up screaming at their house, you know? That would have been terrible and embarassing, even though the thought of having people actually around is very appealing.

But then...well, I had one last Sunday, also, and I attributed it to me hating my job so much (which I also assumed is why it happened this past Sunday, but then they kept happening), and during one of our drives I was telling Jon about it because he'd asked why I seemed so tired that morning...so with shocking insight he was like, "Are you having night terrors?" and I was like, "Oh, um..yeah, well, it's alright, I'm just going to chill for a while," but he stayed with me until like, 4:30, until I could drive. It was so sweet, and I felt really bad because he was clearly exhausted...I hate him for being nice to me. I hate him for being observant and knowing what's bugging me, always. Stop being observant, jerk, and go back to just being a friend who doesn't really know what's up or who isn't really interested in my day or my state of mind or what I like. I hate it, and I hate him for making this difficult for me. Honestly, this seems like a cruel joke. He's become so attentive and concerned and caring over the last month, and I'm completely fed up with the fact that it actually makes me happy. BOO.

That stupid line from that stupid Rihanna song is so appropriate, "I can't stand you/must everything you do make me want to smile?/Can I not like you for a while?" I hate him. I can't STAND him. Stupid Jon. I wish I could actually be angry when he was around, I feel like that would be convenient. GOD. I hate that I just...like him. How is this even still possible? Like, honestly, the amount of willpower I have put into trying to actually end this crush should have had some effect to alleviate this for me. I have never in my life wanted to get over someone before, and now that I do and am actively trying to get over him...it's not working. Why is it not working? I get that I probably see him too much to get over him fully, but like..seriously, you'd think that it would have lessened a little by now.

I was thinking about my long string of crushes earlier, and I realized that I've never actually had a crush on someone I was friends with.
Steven Masterson, James Kaan, Thomas Geiger, Ryan Currie, Jordan Rock, Jason Concepcion, Julian Hormilla, Bryan Muscatello, Billiam, Joe Bailey, John C...(something, what was his last name?!), Hemil Parikh (SHUT UP), Tai, Jon Valentine, Jeff Estremera, like 9 other people from Barkalow with J names whose names escape me at this moment, Joe Cruz, Sam Nieves, Joe Neiss, John Kahwaty, Mike Schwartz, Steve Weiner, Rooney...well, I was friends with Rooney but in my defense, I developed a crush on him upon meeting him, and it wasn't for a few months that we actually became friends, so...that friendship was after the fact. I'm sure that the fact that I was friends with Jon before I started liking him makes this different, too. BUT STILL. My life is not a movie, there is no reason for this anguish. (Yeah, I know I'm being a drama queen about it, but I'm a leo, dammit, and that's what leos are.) If my life were a movie, at least it would probably turn out that in 8 or 9 years (because that's the kind of movie my life would be...) our lives would finally cross that time that makes us fall madly in love with eachother and we get married and live happily ever after. And then I can finally give up my obsession with material comforts and live in a cardboard box with the love of my life. Or, India. But my life is not a movie, that is not what is going to happen, all that's going to happen is that I'm going to be miserable until I get over this, and I want to get over this so desperately. Stupid boys. I wish I liked girls.

Wow, this wasn't even supposed to turn into a rant about him, or even a post about him...it was supposed to be completely about the re-emergence of my night terrors. Um...I guess I should...end this post now. Sorry.

This is how dreams die

I have to wonder, will I ever get what I want? Ever? Last summer I didn't get as many assignments in my preferred topic as I wanted, because they were given to second years over me. This year, I got 2, but they're not real assignments - they were just busy work. Because I wasn't here this summer, really. Still understandable. But it just means that in the 2 little weeks that I'm here, it's impossible to try to forge relationships with the people I need to know to get into the department, because they've already fallen in love with another summer...who has more work experience, a better academic resume, more involvement in activities and organizations that just comes with the territory of being older. They won't want me, because they'll want her, and no matter how hard I try to get their attention, they'll treat me like a little yip dog biting at their ankles. I've e-mailed and e-mailed and e-mailed asking to make lunch plans, with nary a response. Every time I walk to their offices, the doors are closed or they're in client meetings or they're on the phone. I understand they're busy, which is why I e-mail in the first place - they can get to responding when they get a moment. And normally I'd say that they hadn't gotten a moment to respond yet, except for the fact that I walked past the other girl's office only to find The One to Know if You Want To Get Into the Department sitting in her office, just chatting about vacations in August and making plans for lunch. Cool. But if he can find time to do that, can't he find time to shoot me a quick e-mail? Even if it says he's busy, which clearly he's not...

He's just too busy for me. And that breaks my heart.

Conflict

He dropped the tidbit of information that says he's breaking up with her last night. Even though he's said things before like this, I didn't actually believe him. We were sitting in the diner, and I have no idea how it came up, but he said that a few days ago he 'dropped the bomb' that he didn't think things were working out. She asked him to think about it until he got home...so there we have it. He's...actually going to break up with her. When I was leaving and I said that I was sorry that his relationship was over, he said, "Yeah...well....it's time to move on."

I...am very conflicted. He was silly yesterday...goofy. We had fun. I liked the way he looked at me. I liked sitting in the backseat with him on the way to the diner, and just driving around afterwards. I like that he got out of the car with me to go down to the creek, even if we didn't go down there. I like that he really wants to go to the D.R., and that he seemingly wants to share a bed with me. Oh...oh...I don't know. I'm confused. I should probably ignore this. I should just move on. Now he'll be single, and if I allow myself to continue to hope more than I did before, I'll just set myself up for heartbreak when it doesn't happen...because why would it? We're just friends. Why would he want anything from me when he has a friend he's already talking to back home? I can't allow myself to hope. It just won't work out.

In other news, the plan for today is no food. Maybe cherries if I feel faint, but why would I feel faint? It's too soon for that. I know it's bad for me, but here it is: I'm desperate. Moderation doesn't work. Health doesn't work. It's over now. I need a new focus...he can't be my only focus. So this is it.

Fairy lights and fireworks

First post, on the anniversary of the first day after independence. I'm probably trying to be more...touching, whatever, than I really am. I don't know. I like searching for importance and symbolism in little things. It distracts me from reality, I guess.

Last night was...lovely. I don't know. I wish I had all the answers, or I wish that...I wish that the god I talk to could talk back and tell me all the answers. Sitting on the back porch at twilight with the fireflies glowing in the backyard, the white christmas lights glowing along the edge of the overhand, and then walking along the grass barefoot to the park to watch the fireworks, alone with him, felt perfect. There are too many perfect moments with him. If he was the other, there would be no such thing as too many perfect moments, but...he has her. I have the other. We're...friends. Slowly, he's becoming my best friend and I don't know how I feel about that. Of course, I'm excited and I love it, but at the same time I recognize that it will only make it more difficult to get over him.

He confuses me. He hates fireworks, has seen them too many times, didn't want to go, and I was perfectly willing to sit with him while the others went...but when he saw my face light up as I watched through the trees, it was his idea to walk to the park. Was it because he didn't want to be alone with me, or did he want to make me happy? He does a lot to make me happy, or so it seems. Maybe I just read things into it that aren't really there, but sometimes I wonder...am I? The way he speaks to me sometimes...or the way he'll do little things for me randomly that he won't do for others even when asked...I don't understand. It makes it difficult.

I love summer with him. I haven't loved summer with anyone since R, and even then there was nothing so...perfect. This summer has been so perfect already, and it's only the first week of July. I don't want him to leave, even if it's just for three weeks. I don't want to stop working with him, even if it's for two. I never want to leave his side. I always want to be on an island in the middle of a lake, sitting on a bench side by side under a weeping willow, watching the lily pads float around the lake and talking quietly, forever. Was it a dream?

Right now, it feels like my life is a ridiculously long novel sprinkled with perfect little passages and perfect chapters and perfect...everything, but all I'm dying to do is get to the end. I'm enjoying this so much, but all it does is make me question what's going to happen. I know I sound idiotic. I wish I had a better command of words...it's pathetic, because sometimes my command of language is incredible, and I can produce such breatakingly beautiful things, but when it's something that actually has to do with me, everything disappears. I can't do it anymore. I lose my mind, and it's so frustrating.

Anyway. I guess we'll see what the rest of the summer brings. All through April and May all I could think about how wonderful I thought the summer was going to be, and now that it really is living up to that expectation, I'm nervous. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop...nothing can be this perfect. Can it?