2004-10-23 - 10:36 p.m.
Disclaimer: There is BLOOD involved in the production of this entry, and none o' that "oohiieee ohhiee I am a writer who bleeeeds for you" crap but actual red stuff coming from MY UTERUS. Now that I have made this disgustingly clear, you understand that the words that follow are not entirely my own. I mean they are, but they're also affected by extraneous variables, and whether this makes them less true or more is anybody's guess.
I'm restless with worry at the moment. It's radiating from all angles and I just want to curl up into a defensive ball and hide under my desk, so the world can just go over my head.
But these feelings can't be that meaningful. I know a hug from my boy would make it all better. But maybe that just means that his hugs are omnipotent.
I'm worried about him actually. I want to give him more than I have, though he assures me that it's more than enough. But still. I want to make things ... I want to... I want to write your life and make it perfect for you. Which is insane because it's obviously not a power in my grasp, unless God died and left me in charge, which I rather doubt he'd do. But still. The urge persists and I can't reason it away so it jabs at me a little.
I'm a little worried about us too. I'm contemplating us moving in together, in January. But I know my parents aren't ready for that, really not sure I'm ready for that, not entirely sure we're ready for that.
Parents have only just moderately settled down about the me having a boy thing, even just the idea of me moving out would surely make them volcanic if not apocalyptic. And I've never tried to be independent from them before so that's bound to be bumpy for me, emotionally and financially speaking. And as for us ... well ... that area is less clear. Because I know I want him and this but I can't predict what will happen if we make that move. I think I'm a bit afraid of him waking up, with me literally next to him, and him realising I am not what he wanted. Or for the everyday crap to just erode us.
And even though he's someone I just found I already know I can't afford to lose him. Underline, underline, underline. There's probably more, in the form of the regular things that bother me, but eh. Fat! Uni! Parents! and other such themes have been explored and picked apart too many times over already, though they all are relevant to current mood.
But mmm. Dismiss this entry with an "awww, somebody sounds hormonal!" because I'm quite sure I do. ouch.
I'm restless with worry at the moment. It's radiating from all angles and I just want to curl up into a defensive ball and hide under my desk, so the world can just go over my head.
But these feelings can't be that meaningful. I know a hug from my boy would make it all better. But maybe that just means that his hugs are omnipotent.
I'm worried about him actually. I want to give him more than I have, though he assures me that it's more than enough. But still. I want to make things ... I want to... I want to write your life and make it perfect for you. Which is insane because it's obviously not a power in my grasp, unless God died and left me in charge, which I rather doubt he'd do. But still. The urge persists and I can't reason it away so it jabs at me a little.
I'm a little worried about us too. I'm contemplating us moving in together, in January. But I know my parents aren't ready for that, really not sure I'm ready for that, not entirely sure we're ready for that.
Parents have only just moderately settled down about the me having a boy thing, even just the idea of me moving out would surely make them volcanic if not apocalyptic. And I've never tried to be independent from them before so that's bound to be bumpy for me, emotionally and financially speaking. And as for us ... well ... that area is less clear. Because I know I want him and this but I can't predict what will happen if we make that move. I think I'm a bit afraid of him waking up, with me literally next to him, and him realising I am not what he wanted. Or for the everyday crap to just erode us.
And even though he's someone I just found I already know I can't afford to lose him. Underline, underline, underline. There's probably more, in the form of the regular things that bother me, but eh. Fat! Uni! Parents! and other such themes have been explored and picked apart too many times over already, though they all are relevant to current mood.
But mmm. Dismiss this entry with an "awww, somebody sounds hormonal!" because I'm quite sure I do. ouch.
