In a state of thixotropy

Officially over

I finally FINALLY finished the paper. Thank goodness! I was allowed to leave early from work yesterday, in order to try to tackle “the paper.” So I came home, showered and packed my stuff for a day at Starbucks, when all of my friends would not be there. Got the paper to about 5.5 pages, when I had to leave there because the lure of distraction was far too great. FAR FAR TOO GREAT!

I came home and with some help from a friend, got through some of the rough spots of the paper. Trudged through it, and at about 3:15 am, I had it printed, stapled and packed away safely in my backpack (so as to NOT forget it once I left the house). Set the alarm and passed out. I woke up with my phone (aka my alarm) in my hand, under the pillow.

Wanna know what time I woke up in the morning? 8:15am.
Wanna know how long my commute to school is? Most days, just over an hour.
Wanna know what time I was supposed to be in class? Yeah, 9am.

Even if I didn’t bother to change my clothes, brush my teeth, feed the cat, or have my “I just woke up” pee, I still wouldn’t have made it to school in time. So I didn’t rush it. I just got ready and took off.

The boy, on the other hand, is starting to drive me to the brink of insanity. I’ve been wanting to write about it. Bits of our conversation, in an attempt to at least (in part) understand what in the hell is going on. But it doesn’t make any sense. He makes little comments, here and there. Many other instances. I’ve also taken my estalking to a whole new level. He told me about his ex, and how he’s been feeling rather depressed because after everything she did to him… after all of the hell she put him through… and he forwarded the email exchange between the two of them.

I had her email. I looked it up on myspace. I found her. Her profile is private, so I searched for a way to see her pictures anyway. I saw pictures of the babies when he hasn’t. I saw a picture of her. I feel somewhat guilty in this, because even if as time passes we only become better friends, closer friends, and it never becomes anything more than that… I will have to carry this around with me… It will always remain a secret that I have, that he can never know.

The internet is not safe. While I know that even writing about it, there’s a chance that he might be able to stumble across it. But I have faith in his lack of computer knowledge and internet saavy, that he will likely never find any of this, unless I tell him. Once I post this, I know that I will never tell him. Ever.

It gets easier, every day. Though I know that I still care very deeply for him, and wish that our circumstances could’ve been different. I wish that we had met at a different point in both of our lives. My obsessive tendency will likely mean that as hard as the road will be, and as much debt as I will probably put myself into, after grad school, I’ll be moving away from here. Anywhere. But I will not stick around. Best case scenario, I’ll be around for another 3 years before looking for employment somewhere other than here, and possibly a PhD program. Best case scenario, I can finally move abroad, to the UK, and pursue my education there.

Either way, my goals in life will inevitably take me away from him. As much as I want him right now.

He doesn’t make this easy for me. He doesn’t make it easy for me to slowly let go either. I want desperately to be on the back of his motorcycle, holding onto him tightly as we just go… no particular direction… just going. I want desperately to just… touch him.

No matter what I do… I can’t seem to shake all of the feelings I have for him… or release my sheer desire of him.

Tags: school, the boy, wtf