the general store:

It is already home and I am already immensely happier in so many ways, though disappointed in some overshadowing ways (and really, is that a surprise) but I'd rather shine my light on the better side, that it is already home, that I have already had great good times with her, my new roommate who I should have roomed with long ago; and it is only been a week. She is a glow and I am a moth. I fit in here, I like it here, I am happy here. This makes sense. The last place did not make sense. I don't miss being there at all, there is no confusion over which bus to take, and it is good.

I experienced this weekend, a moment of satisfaction, which was explained as drunkenness--but I wasn't drunk, I was happy. That's how rare it is that I'm happy. The fireworks were plentiful, my friends were there, and I was glad. I didn't care about where I had to be and how I had to get there, for at least a little bit.

All this weekend I had to resist him and it felt easy, really, I was just across the street from him, the magnetic disc, and I noticed and walked away, and then, of course, it was arranged in a way I could never plan well enough, by coincidence, by the magnestism, boom, we crashed and there was nothing we could do differently and no pulling away that would work, everyone fell away until there was just us and when will he go away? Just leave. The sting of his earnest conversation, the politeness, the wretched sense of fakery, I hate hate hate it and him. Even more I hate that I get caught in his pull, but this time, this time I managed to walk away and it was the most natural part of the exchange for me..

And then there was today, having had yesterday, trying to prove that I didn't care, but it was all I could do not to look up at every figure that neared, every face that passed, and it was never his. And when it was, it was a cheerful, polite hello with nothing else, because I was in a spot that forced him to be distant, and I was there on purpose. When I left, I didn't say goodbye and I felt his eyes on me, burying themselves into my back and I dared myself not to look back and then I promised myself never to go in there again. It is a promise I will break because I have broken it before.

Even though I worked all weekend it felt like a vacation, because things were slow at work, because I wasn't at home, because I am putting off the important parts for now.

I feel the draw to things I cannot control, and I am more okay with it than I have ever been, though now I am putting the leash on that one area I let run rampant and no longer actively pursue and just a couple weeks in, with the whirlwind of Other Things to Do, men remain a mysterious enigma I worry I will never figure out, but I feel no dire sense of panic from this.