... I have to get this out sometime. In my year of complete happiness from last year, I forgot how harboring emotions could cause severe mental damage. But, I've been paranoid that I would come off as whiny, self-assured, and general teenage stereotype.

And I know certain people who talk to me in real life read this. At least they aren't saying anything 'lest I prompt them with a question or two for advice.

But my whole shitty week began on Saturday of last week. I worked on my piece for art that day, but during the last hour or so Liz and family came in. Her sister was visiting from college in Chicago and she enjoyed Ms. Treat's company so that they wanted to have a visit. I never quite understood Liz's admiration for her sister (seeing how I'm the younger one and more mature one in my family unit) until that day... Her sister is completely intimidating. And not in a good way. After they left, I was stuck staring at what I had accomplished thus far and regarded it like complete tripe. (self: -10 pts)

Later that day I had to wait for the females to meet dad and I at the mall, yet they were half an hour late. That means half an hour of me sitting amidst the throng of the crowd in my "I didn't know we were going out today so I dressed casually/functionally" clothes. Got a migraine from all the noise, and sis annoyed me with her talk of finding the Tremurs venue. (self: -15 pts)

Saturday night comes and I'm talking to my friend from AZ on the phone. He's crying his heart out about how, after telling a close friend about himself, they had a verbal religious beliefs debate/sparring match where the dogmatic weapons of Christianity and Unitarian Universalism were played to great effect. I listen as usual to his problems and console him as much as I can...

It's strange because he probably did the most significant damage to myself and yet I'm not mad at him at all. Who knew that by mentioning the first boyfriend's name that he'd open the floodgates to a maudlin nostalgia trip for hell... if you couldn't follow what I just typed, that was the effect I wanted. The dagger gets twisted when he gets me to tell him some of the little things which... well, the little things he did that made me happy. Even now I can't risk thinking about all of them. (self: -100)

And the failure at the recital (self: -25) plus the pity from others (self: -50) didn't quite help.

Later on in the week... just brooding and thinking about the first boyfriend all week, worrying whether or not Justin can really stand me, and Nikki's passionate (if not verbose) accounts of perfectly executed kisses from her newly acquired boy. The mixed signals from DJ and the fact that he's a bigger tease than Matt doesn't help one bit.

... now that I think of it, he's only the bigger tease because he actually makes physical contact. I made that point at lunch and he jokingly starts to feel me up... which is later proceeded by him talking about all the guys who checked him out that day.

Right now, I'm in a volatile state. If anyone dares to play with my heartstrings at this moment I'll foolishly latch onto them and shower them with affection. Proof? While waiting for the late bus, I had Jyl's head on my lap as I stroked her hair, and I wondered what I would do if she were a guy.

And directly before going to the buses I waited with Patricia while she smoked her last cig and spoke of her extreme emotion for her boy. Earlier that day I was accompanying her to the bathroom when she made a quick stop by the tech room (clear across campus) to leave him a note.

This may sound weird (and definetly off subject) but I like the smell of cigarette smoke. Don't get me wrong, I'd never smoke one or appreciate someone blowing it in my face a la shotgun... but when the scent is subtle like a lingering wave in the air...

Even today I was on the phone with Matt while watching Will and Grace, laughing at the jokes, pouring most of what I wrote here (minus the parts concerning him) out for him gladly after he spoke of the family favoritism he reviled. And normally talking to him about any subject makes my mood lighten up... but not so this time 'round.

... fuck it. All other infatuations are merely diversion tactics.

I. Still. Want. Matt.

... and I can't help but feel no differently. Bad enough I'll be at his house on Saturday to take pictures of him for photo.

To anyone who reads this, please speak not a word. Not even to me. No slight chuckles, no raised eyebrows, nothing.

Trust me, if the situation's so bad that I can't speak of it to my own sister (who more or less is my ultimate confidant) I can't handle other people talking to me about it.

...

Funny how at times like this I'm glad I have no commenting system.