This was saved in my drafts from December-- I don't know why it was never published but I like it

Perhaps the most awkward mix of feelings I have experienced is those I associate with being home, and visiting old friends but missing my new home and new friends.  Last night when I was saying goodbye to my old choir buds, I felt so sad even though there's a good chance I'll see them again before I go back to Columbus.  I just felt sad because I did, because in some weird ways everything we had was over.  We're only connected now because we were connected once before; we no longer have together what originally bound us.  So I'm sad about that.  But I'm so very thankful and happy for my new friends, and I can't wait to see them when this break is over.

So I'm sad to be leaving my old friends and happy to see my new friends, and I almost feel guilty for not being more upset that I'll be going back soon.  Or feeling more like I need to suck in all the Westlake I am while I'm here.  Why don't I feel that way? I love this place.

I also feel this weird duty to Westlake.  Like somehow I owe it more of my time, especially because of what a perfect place it was to grow up, but I also know that being in college is the best possible thing for me right now.  I guess I was raised the way I was so that when it became time, and it has become time, for me to go out and snatch life up for myself I would be able. And I am.  It just makes me feel selfish sometimes.

Also, when did I become so incredibly self-centered?  I feel sometimes like I only have thoughts for myself and only want to talk about myself and this basically makes me a horrible conversationalist.  I think that this is caused by the certain amount of isolation that is felt at college.  Even at Ohio State where most of my friends go to school, I'm mostly surrounded by people who don't know what I was like in 5th grade (which suits me well, anyways) and so it's almost like every single person is an island who makes friends with other islands, but rarely fuse into a country.  I also think that this selfishness (I don't like using the word selfish because it has a negative connotation, and I'm fairly sure that a weird selfishness is pretty normal at this stage in life) comes from the fact that everyone is constantly wondering how we, freshman college students, are doing.   How are classes going?  How are the roommates?  Are you eating okay?  Are you working out? Getting good grades?  Joining any clubs?  How are you doing?  And when I ask whoever it is asking me these questions How they are doing? I get the standard "Oh you know, it's boring/all the same around here." Like, whatever man.

I understand why people hate interacting with college students.

sad rant

This post is going to be very sad.  It doesn't start sad, but it brings itself to some very sad conclusions.

Here's the thing: there is a really beautiful and intelligent boy whom I have been well enamored with* for 5 years.  Can you even fucking imagine an unrequited 5 long years?  Sorry to reference the most cliche romantic story to reference, but keep in mind that the entire plot of Romeo and Juliet takes place in about a week and that includes murder.  It has been a grueling and mainly boring 5 years in love.

But there were two occasions on which my relationship with this boy deviated from the otherwise flat and depressing line; once in May of 2012 and another time in March of 2013.  May seemed promising for the slightly distant future; March seemed very promising for the near future.  I guess what happened in May may have been what lead to what happened in March but not after nearly a year of almost no contact at all.

So let me just get this clear right now: when I am not physically in a room with him, he might as well be dead because even if we are communicating, we aren't able to do so on anywhere near the same level as we can in person; which is a testament to his lively  personality, as well as his fuckwittedness about texting girls back who would just like the tiniest inkling that he may think on them once in awhile.

But I'll tell you what happened in March in my most delicate terms.  We were at a party together and then he drove me home but instead we only made out and talked in his car.  That's the quick version, the long one reveals that he was really really excited that we were together, and he wasn't feigning for any sexual favors** or to make me feel good because immediately after he tweeted about how happy he was.  This is the new millenium; tweeting is an emotional and honest expression.  He suggested more than once that we should see each other like that again, only not in a car at 5am but maybe at a restaurant for lunch.  

And then never responded to any hopeful suggestions from me to follow through on such plans.

And I am heartbroken.

And I just can't believe that I would be wasting my time being heartbroken about a guy who will mean nothing to me in a year or two.  Which perpetuates my idea that we should be together.  Which reminds me that there is just nothing I can change about the way he is treating me.  Which is my trouble.

My problem is that I can't just decide that I am going to get over him because I cannot picturing having the self assurance to say no to him in a year or five or ten on the off chance that he ever wonders what happened to me and wishes he could see me again.  I'm never going to be at a point in my life where I wouldn't drop everything to go on a date with him, because he is amazing and he is going places.

I realize that may seem melodramatic, to say I would drop anything just for one date, and it probably is, but hear me out.  I've seen a lot of world for my years, and I've started college and met tons of people and I have never met anyone with the same light that he has.  And that makes me really really sad, because that might mean that he is one of a kind.  And if he is one of a kind and he doesn't want me.  That would be the worst conclusion to reach.

What I need is for him to tell me, directly, with words rather than actions, that I need to move on.  That he is not interested in me, at all, forever.  Because I'll never be able to tell that to myself.

That was the dramatic (but true) sentence that I should be ending this post with, but I never explained why all of a sudden this whole thing is once again relevant.  I am back at the restaurant for the summer to work, and he and his family and friends came in for dinner.  When I saw him my immediate feeling was nausea and anger, which I held onto tight.  When he tried to talk to me I was real fuckin terse and made this weird close mouthed smile with my eyes screaming at him to get the fuck out of my face before I were to start throwing up and/or crying.  You probably can't picture this face, but it's not a face you want to continue a conversation with.

I can't be friends and I can't be friendly because I gave him my whole heart.  I really did.  The whole stupid thing.  He knows how I feel about him because I told him.  I used my words, which are honest, because I have no idea how to make them any other way.  Sometimes I wish I did.

*not really with, more at

**and if he was then joke's on him