What is it about Smart Guy, the boy who has technically been around for the last year and a half and yet still there has been no no no speaking, that makes me psychotic?

I caught a glimpse of his hair today and spent the rest of the hour fighting the never-ending look-at-him-no-don't-look-don't-look-don't-look-ooh-look-at-him battle.

I day dream when I'm trying to sleep and he is almost always the star, regardless of plotline. I die, my best friend dies, my mother dies. For some reason I expect him to be there for the worst.

Not that those are my typical imaginings, but common nonetheless and in dreams of blood and tears he is omnipresent.

He's there for the better times as well. High school reunions, where I would have something to prove, somehow his presence proves it for me. In the dreams I have overcome, outlasted, found a place for myself, found quiet contentment, found a boy, my boy.

He's like the earrings that complete your outfit. Only, I don't even know what my outfit is or where I can get it from. But he could be the earrings, I just know it.

See? Psychotic. I swear that I'm not normally this insane. I blame extenuating circumstances. Any port, even if it's a mirage of convenience, in a storm.

Not that it's storming really, light sprinkling if anything. But once you've been out in the rain for a while you forget to notice the difference.

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