I'll try really hard to respond to everyone in the near future--it's too annoying, on my phone.

And I am currently using my phone.

For everything.

Things have gone back to normal. I think I went temporarily insane because, FYI, the future is terrifying, and letting go of comfort blankets is also really scary. So there I was, trying to deal with all of that and not being able to talk to anyone about why it was so hard...mostly because I sometimes feel really, really judged by my friends, as far as my decisions go. And, hey, sure, it's smart to mention when something sounds like a bad idea, BUT LEAVE IT AT THAT! It just plain does not help to keep being upset about someone else's decision. Let people make mistakes--they educate us better than a disapproving glance ever could.

-takes a breath-

I moved into the new house with yourcupoftea. My room is super adorable and has a great claw foot tub in the adjacent bathroom. Mike helped me build a bunch of my furniture, which definitely made for some excellent bonding time. It had been three weeks since we'd last seen one another; I'd forgotten how he looks at me. yourcupoftea brought me dinner because I was super pissy and tired, and I ate that while Mike hammered nails. He told me I was very helpful, so GOLD STAR FOR ME.

It is really good to be back. I'm so ready to see all my friends and start in on this school year.

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Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

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Well.

It would appear that I've broken my ankle without noticing.

For everyone who doesn't understand why a high pain tolerance is a problem, THIS IS THE PROBLEM. A lot of people hear that I don't feel major injuries and tell me I'm lucky. NOPE. NO. WRONG. When YOU break a bone, you say, "OW. OW, THIS IS CAUSING PAIN. OW." When I break a bone, I say something like, "Hey what are they serving at [university cafeteria] today?" or "LOOK AH-DA PUPPAAYYY," or other things you say when your ankle isn't broken and you live in the city in which I live, because FYI there are a lot of puppies.

Breaking a bone the first time was kind of novel, for me, because I was thinking, Wow, now I've done something a lot of people never do, I must be a sporty badass with cool hair. The second time, it's just annoying and tedious to take care of. And ugly.

Also people won't let me lift things or walk, which are two of my favorite things to do.

Furthermore, it's really hard to walk my boyfriend (unintentional phrasing but effectively true, since I essentially have to drag him out) until his knee hurts and he wants to just be lazy at home, when my ankle is too sensitive to walk those distances.

And then I'm forced to do what HE wants, since he doesn't get tired out, which is usually some loser crap like having fun with friends or getting lattes at my favorite coffee shop.

LAME.


Thank goodness I had friends who pushed me into giving him my number.


Broke my losing streak, broke my toe, broke my ankle. What a summer.

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"I've never seen you like this," Roy told me. He'd just asked about my date with Mike, which was an all-around success for both of us. I grinned like a complete moron and said it was "good."

But really I wanted to say that I'd forgotten how nice it is to like, be liked in return, and want the same result from those feelings.

It's a lot of fun. I like being around Mike. He's kind of weird in that he didn't really represent himself as a bright, driven, healthy guy, when we first met. I hated his approach and everything about it, which is something I mentioned, before. I didn't know anything about him, and still wrote him off as just another guy who wouldn't really be able to keep up with me.

Wrong.

I've said before that he's a day trader, during the summer months, which is extremely impressive, to me, because trading successfully on the stock market for any substantial amount of time takes a diligent effort to keep up with current events, not to mention the fact that he wakes up--sans alarm clock--around six thirty, every morning. I get texts from him while I'm at work, around eight or nine. He likes to eat extremely healthy food, and exercises when he can, although I'm trying to convince him to lay off of the walking/running, at the moment, because he has a bad knee that swells up, sometimes, when we walk too much in the summer heat. He recites facts to me when we're sitting around doing nothing, and he can keep up with me when I'm talking about medical technology. He likes hip-hop/rap and basketball, not to mention the fact that his very alert brown eyes are incredibly expressive...and the fact that he doesn't text too often.

I tell people that he just kind of told me I'm his girlfriend, on the fourth of July, but really, he only told me that after we asked one another why we liked each other. I think we both realized that there was something real, after those impromptu speeches.

"I like your smile," he said. "I like that you smile when I smile."

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