August 9, 2002
Vaguely
One week from today. Just one week. And I'll be gone. And this year will finally be gone.
I don't update as much as I should. I'm so used to writing when I have nothing to say... now that I do, it's like I'm overwhelmed.
Kels and I had a lovely day on Wednesday, mostly due to my brand spanking new copy of LOTR. We watched the part where Legolas shoots three arrows in a row more times than I care to mention.
It's so silly. We're watching all the special features and I literally get chills thinking of the second film. I can't wait. I must have been an elf in another life...
Orlando Bloom laughs and says that elves can be slain in battle, or die of a broken heart, but that is about it.
I must've died of a broken heart.
Yesterday I had a fight with myself. I really feel like I must be sorely affected by cosmis climates or something. For no reason, I will wake up and feel slightly off, feel removed from myself. It didn't matter that the sun was shining. It didn't matter that I was with him. All my words drained from my throat, filling my stomach with bittersweetness and leaving my mouth too dry for conversation. Mike tried in vain to make me feel better, jesting, kissing my fingers.
I just shrugged and tried to smile for his benefit.
Linda Goodman claims that dating a Scorpio will toughen a woman up. I agree more with her everyday. I grit my teeth to keep from being petty with him, merely because I understand that it won't get me anywhere.
I would be more specific, but my mood has left me.
I kiss him and say we must be going. He beams down at me.
"You think too much."
And we jest that I could just bleach my hair and everything would be alright. But it wouldn't. I'd still be crazy. I'd just be blonde.
She and I talked about it, and she has no idea how comforting it was for me to get it out in the open. I relished not recieving the look, but wonder if it was merely repressed.
And yet, it's really only my business. I can't look to others to make this decision for me.
What would my mother say?
Would I even have the guts to tell her?
Once I get an idea into my head it doesn't go away. I go over it and over it and over it and over it and over it and over it. There is an undercurrent of desire and curiosity flowing just beneath my fears, my dominant fears. It grows stronger with each passing day, and the weight is becoming a burden.
Virginity is a big deal. And I don't want it to be. And it doesn't have to be.
I want and I dread at the same time. I worry that it is all coming on me too fast, I worry that I do not worry enough, I worry that it would all be a mistake, a regret to wind itself noose-like about my neck.
What if I got pregnant? What if I got pregnant?
People think I'm crazy. And maybe I am. But ninety-nine percent effective is just not good enough for me.
But I don't want to wait anymore. The longer I wait the more paranoid I become, the more I think that in the moment of I will freeze up, I'll both hate and love at the same time, I'll be a virgin forever.
I'm so tired of being so concerned. Does this big deal have to be so damn big?
It's going to happen. I know myself. I know it's going to happen.
I just have no fucking clue how I'm going to feel about it afterwards.
Help?
astera at 12:09 p.m.