Journal

Mood: Upset .: Burning Inside :.
Listening to: .: Lina – I’m not the Enemy :.
Reading: .: The Black Panthers Speak :.
Watching: .: You Got Served :.

It burns, a molten torch in my chest.
I’m still alive, though. I’m still working on myself. It does not hurt bad.
Ok, that’s a lie. It hurts like nothing else. But I must not use her gentleness to salve my wounds. It’s interesting… she appears the hard girl to everyone else, shooting them down with a simple look. But she is gentle to me. It’s not a matter of the eye of the beholder. It’s a change in actions.
If I use that, I’m only hurting myself. Filling myself with empty feelings. Surreptitiously received love is as vacant as the living room after a night’s passion. I’d be using her for affection, while she’d be using me for appreciation. And if anything physical happened, even a kiss, I would take it wrong. I need to appreciate her as a friend, stop calling her every day, stop visiting her all the time. Give her time to think. Give myself time to think.

I need to explore my options, and I ALSO need not to let the affections of others repair my damages either. I need to fix myself, spend more time with God, and revamp.
What a way to start a semester.
It’s hard, because Inya has such a powerful effect on me. She calms me like nothing else. Maybe I should be more discerning when I take advantage of that.
It’s going to be a long withdrawal, when I fall in love I fall deep.

I went out to see “You got Served” today. The story line was terrible. The acting was worse. The dancing was OFF THE CHAIN. I’m tellin’ you right now, there ain’t any other movie out there with dancing this good. Especially at the end. It was entertaining. Not sure it was 5$ worth, but it was nice to get off campus. I went with Idiki and Hope. I invited Inya. I would have been a crumb not to. She is STILL my best friend. This is going to be interesting. And very very hard.
Inya still isn’t feeling so great from her cough, so she didn’t come.

Oie. I wish life wasn’t so hard. It would be shady if it was easy, but this is too much. I need someone to talk to. I think too much, and then when I tell Inya as a friend, I inevitably end up telling her too much. No one can deal with that, especially when I’m discovering myself. All 4 voices have different opinions. I need to work out which is the strongest before I talk to anyone.

Mood: Upset .: SomethinInside :.
Listening to: .: India.Arie & Stacy Kent :.
Reading: .: The Black Panthers Speak :.
Watching: .: The Killing Fields :.

And suddenly I realize I am someone.
It is only half sudden, a slow process which has been with me since the first time I arrived on the reservation. When I first looked across the earthen ditch from Noah Einish’s house… seeing Unaam and Washaigin Natawappio… They nodded their heads at me. You look them dead in the eyes, and jerk your head up, all the while holding the gaze. Some liken it to the “male nod” that is common among distant acquaintances of the male sex down here in the states, but the feeling is distinctly different up there. And I nodded back. At that instant, a million things happened, an immediate acceptance and rejection. A sudden realization that I would become Naskapi and that at the same time I would never be truly accepted by them.
And so who am I?
I am a white boy. A son of a Polish family, a son of an Irish family, both on the bottom rungs of the white social ladder. All eight of my great-grandparents had tasted their native soil, giving up their home for the promise of a better life in America. And when they arrived here, they had done their best to melt, as was the custom, into the pot which would embrace them. By the time my parents came around, they spoke nothing of their mother tongue.
And yet I am more than that. I am Naskapi. Raised in three ways; by my parents, by the Naskapi children, and by the Naskapi elders. The children taught me to fight, by beating the snot out of me. Ridiculing me in school, dashing any dreams I had when they dashed my face into the cold gravel outside the playground. They taught me to change, to adapt everything save the very core of me; I could, if I had been able to change the appearance of my face (that’s all that matters in a land where -40 is common) I could have passed off as Montognais or Naskapi. I already had great fun in passing off as Quebecquois whenever I met someone who did not know who I was. The elders taught me how to deal with their children. Lord knows my parents didn’t know what do about that one. The elders taught me what it was like to go out in the bush and listen to the world around you. How to look across a clearing and see 15 invisible ptarmigan hiding in a bush. How to listen to the Creator and how He longs to listen to you. They taught me the corruptions that had caused the problems in their children; they brought me up as their own. And my parents? My parents taught me of God and smacked me when I chameleoned so much I lost my core set of morals, and set me back on track.
And yet I am more than that.
I have discovered I also taught myself. I read thousands of books from my parents’ library, and from the library at school. I became bent on becoming everything I could be. I became entranced with learning, with wisdom, with teaching myself about love, politics, society, philosophy, ethics, morals, scripture. I studied great works of literature. I began modeling myself after protagonists. Tom Swift. Ishmael. King David. Edmond Dantez. King Solomon. Sherlock Holmes. I studied famous people in history, and modeled myself after them. Thomas Edison. Leonardo DaVinci. Walt Disney. Copernicus. India Arie. Plato. I studied the dictators and oppressors of mankind, in hopes I could learn from them so I would not become like them. The most evil people ever have been self-appointed dictators who were geniuses. At some point or another, they had strayed from constantly improving themselves and felt they had achieved a place where they could no longer improve. The second kind of evil person would be the kinds who were placed in leadership, who are just plain morons most of the time (much like our current leaders).
So what does it make me?
A conscious white man. If you don’t know what the consciousness movement is, look it up. That’s the first step to becoming conscious anyways. Read, sucker. Wikipedia has the best definition I’ve find.
I am interested in working on myself. In revolutions. In helping the oppressed. In life, and the beauty of it. In love.
I have discovered I do not have to be a chameleon for anyone, but at the same time I can use that power to adapt myself when I see someone I admire.
I am discovering myself.
This is a significant milestone. It defines what the rest of my life will be like, and what changed will progress from there. It shapes my relationship to God. It strengthens it. It shapes the woman I will end up with. It does not change everything, but moreover gives me a better idea of who I am.

Inya and I talked tonight. I am on my last chance to work this out as a friendship. I worried too much and did not trust her to let me know if she had any of her feelings change.

I’m not out for anyone’s comfort but my own at this point. If I’m not comfortable with myself, no one else is going to be. If I don’t make attempts at knowing myself, how can I expect anyone else to care? And I need to do it for myself, NOT so I all have someone care.

I’ve flipped out of control and landed square on my own two feet. And the interesting thing is Inya thinks we can still work it out. I was surprised. I was perfectly ready to be completely cut off tonight. Bang, boom, no more friendship. But she didn’t want that. Neither did I, but I was willing to give up the gig if she felt she’d had enough.

I don’t know when the next time is I’ll talk with her. I need a break. I bet we both do. I need some time to be by myself anyways.

Mood: Very Happy .: Sunbeam Inside :.
Listening to: .: India.Arie – Journey to India CD :.
Reading: .: A Right to Be Hostile – Aaron McGruder :.
Watching: .: The Killing Fields :.

Aloha!

And so, I did it.
I opened DA today and saw I had 2456 new messages.
That’s too many. I deleted all the deviations, and all the journals. And I cleaned out my entire friends list.

So here’s the deal. Reply to this e-mail, and I know you want back on. I didn’t delete a few (like ~ naskapi-linguist ) but just to be sure, reply.
I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t do 2456 e-mails.
Granted, the reason WHY I wasn’t able to was because real life has been taking up my time, but I realized long ago real life would always take precedence.

I’m still going to respond to all the comments, but it will take a while. There are 68 of those.

And so, I’ll continue with my journal.

Inya let me draw her for my final in Figure Drawing class. She let me have around 3 hours a night, and with the content of my professor, I set to work.

2b Cont.

Mood: Very Happy .: Sunbeam Inside :.
Listening to: .: Harry Connick Jr. – The Street Where You Live :.
Reading: .: A Right to Be Hostile – Aaron McGruder :.
Watching: .: Sarafina! & Jungle Fever:.

Aloha!!!!!

Happy MLKJr. Day

I’m happy. 🙂

By the way, thank you guys for replying to my rambling thoughts, I currently have 192 messages right now, and will not be going through them any time immediately. I will eventually, so don’t worry; starting with the oldest. Far too busy right now. I’m compiling my portfolio for an impending job interview (wish me luck!) redesigning the school newspaper (the WHOLE THING, and the design will stay at LEAST for 10 years), designing a web page for a German Hi-Fi Speaker company, and preparing for meetings with a Chinese company of the same nature. In essence, my portfolio is going to be OFF THE CHAIN. 😀

If you like Jazz, or like the music in the background of romantic idealist movies commonly labeled as “chick flicks” , or if you simply like music that is genuine good quality and makes you feel good, listen to Harry Connick Jr.

Stupid of me to write when I was so down. I rarely feel that way, but it’s deep when I do. It did help to write it, though. I TOLD myself I’d feel better. I should have just listened to myself and trusted God.

And Inya helped. 🙂

Inya came over and I helped her review with her script (she’s taking Intro to Acting class). She said that she had been having trouble memorizing it, but when she did it for me, she nailed the thing. Absolutely perfect. We worked on the emotions too, and she got the first part done. After that, Hope and Inya riding up to Giant (grocery store) and getting Chinese food. Then going to Blockbuster and borrowing Sarafina! and Jungle Fever.
Inya and I went back and watched the movies, and ate our dinner. It was nice. 🙂
Sarafina! is an excellent movie. Absolutely phenomenal. It’s about the beginnings of the struggle against the school system in South Africa. I recommend it to anyone anyone anyone. Whoopi Goldberg is in it, but she is by far not the best actress. Check this movie out. Inter-library loan it, I don’t care. It’s good. It made me cry.
Jungle Fever is a Spike Lee joint, and I would NOT recommend that to everybody. It has a LOT of swearing and a couple lewd sex scenes (keep your thumb on the fast forward button). However, in terms of what it talks about with the way life is for Blacks & Italians in confrontations of race; it’s incredible. Don’t go in not expecting to be shocked, angered or shocked some more. It’s not a tame movie.

Anyhow, she, I , …. She makes me so content in so many ways. I am glowing because I feel so happy right now.

I must say, I made a mistake later, though. We practiced again, and I pushed her very very slightly too far. She takes my advice very very seriously, but I need to learn my boundaries and not abuse the privileged too much. She is perfectly capable of doing very good on her own, but she really likes my advice, and I need to learn when to hold it back. I stopped before I said something stupid, but she understood, and I walked her home. She is an amazing actress. The intensity she works through the piece is incredible. If she really had the drive ever, she would make a killer actress. The truly fantastic thing is she doesn’t know it yet. She trusts me so much, though. I’ve got to be careful. I learned tonight, though.

I need to go to bed, I’m going to get up early and finish up my portfolio.

I wish you all as sweet dreams as mine will be…

Mood: Depressed .: Frosted :.
Listening to: .: Floetry – Headache :.
Reading: .: A Right to Be Hostile – Aaron McGruder :.
Watching: .: Micheal Jackson’s Dangerous performance :.

aloha.

I don’t feel good.

Inya let me draw her tonight. She really wants me to, and I’m very agreeing, since I have to do work for drawing class.

She came over to my room.

Ahg. She is so agreeing with me. I don’t know how to put it.
I started getting depressed, I think it’s mostly not having enough sleep.
It was hard to study her. She is very beautiful. I’m infatuated with this girl.
I’m glad I didn’t start saying too much, it could have gotten weird. Sometimes …
A lot of times… I’ll look at her and all my words get jumbled together. Which is bad, because she can see my mind working, and then she’ll ask me what I want to say.

Ahg.

I want to be happy. I need sleep, and I’ll probably feel better. I need to start working on homework tomorrow.

The drawing of her turned out really good, though, once I relaxed.

Inside me is too much love. I wish God would give me someone to love, or just take the feeling away.

Mood: .: Snowy :.
Listening to: .: Plumb – Stranded :.
Reading: .: A Right to Be Hostile – Aaron McGruder :.
Watching: .: lost in translation :.

Aloha.

Pagoda played a show on Friday.
I royally messed up “Love Song for No One At All”;
A song I wrote
A song I have the lead vocals in
A song that, while not my favorite, is certainly very far up there.
I felt like I let the whole band down.
I felt like complete dirt.
I stumbled around on the other songs, especially “Silver Spoons and Sinking Rooms”.
I don’t have anyone to blame but myself, I need to practice it more. I should be able to play a keyboard to it and sing it as well, and I haven’t pushed myself far enough.

My mood changed later; we were reviewed by some guy named Mike Powers who wants us to play at State Street Station, and he mentioned he loved the keyboards in his e-mail. So I guess I didn’t completely botch those.

Anyways, I slept at Lox’s house.
So did Nina and Mesgana.
Nina, Scott & Mesgana started drinking, and I hung out with them for a bit. Mesgana’s been hitting on Nina for a while, but she doesn’t really want him to. They were all getting tipsy (I don’t drink) and Mesgana began getting pushy. I was ready to knock his lights out if he didn’t try anything. He went out for a smoke and Nina said she really didn’t want to sleep in the same room as him. I told her to let him have the loveseat they were sitting on (there were two in the room) and I let her sit on mine and gave her my sleeping bag. I told her I’d find some other place for her to sleep after Mesgana fell asleep.

Mesgana pretended he was drunk, but then get kind of depressed and fell asleep. Scott, of course, was jovial, and his noise and antics proved Mesgana was really asleep. I led Nina upstairs. Scott had a walk in closet, and a mattress that he let Nina sleep on. The boy was completely incompetent, and I had to demand he get some sheets for her to sleep on. He stumbled around and found some, but couldn’t find any blankets.
I told him to go to bed, and gave Nina my sleeping bag. She was very out of it, and curled up on the mattress. I wrapped her up and made sure she was warm (the heat isn’t the greatest in their house). She was very quiet during this whole time, and thanked me for taking care of her.
I wished her goodnight, and a tear fell from her eye.
I asked her what was wrong, and as she fell asleep she whispered “I just want you to be happy”.

I was angry.
I went up to Lox’s room, and found a sheet to throw over myself and curled up in his roommate’s bed.

The next day, I got up and they were gone. I took a shower, and Lox gave me a tour of the School of the Nativity, where I’d like to work after I graduate. I’m excited. I hope I get a position there. I’m so excited.

I got back and called Inya, and told here everything that had happened. She had some interesting theories about what was going on with Nina. I’m not sure how much I believe about them. It’s a given I’m naive. I also have a hard time understanding any emotion expressed to me, even though I can easily tell exactly how people are feeling towards each other. I need to think some more.

Rafiki had a meeting, and Fred blew up. He’s my roommate, and since he moved in the house he’s done nothing but complain about the noise. He is a very light sleeper, and cannot study with any amount of noise. However, the nature of the Rafiki house is that it is a very noisy and social place. He was basically chasing people out of the house, for his own reasons. This goes against the whole object of the house, which is to provide a place where international students can come to feel comfortable.
Anyways, everyone in the house went off on him, and finally talked some sense into him. He’s going to be moving out in February.
It’s a lot more complicated than that, but I don’t feel like going into it.

I went and visited Inya after that, and just talked for a while. She was sleepy, so she took a nap, and then I came back and took her out (actually, technically she took ME out) to see ” lost in translation”. Weird movie. I’m not entirely sure what their motivation was for making it, and am kind of surprised that Messiah played it (nudity). It was… interesting. I’ll give it that. It also had a pretty good encompassing view of Japanese culture. I didn’t really like it that much. I wouldn’t watch it again.
I HATE the main character. I never want to feel that empty. I never want to loose myself, or see life as that unbeautiful. I won’t.
I can’t.

I took Inya back to her room.
She is so comfortable around me, and I with her.
I’m not sure, but she seems to be changing. I’m going to remain the same, and keep the boundary of friendship.

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts.

I was angry and touched with Nina at the same time.
She really does care about me.
She should NOT drink around Mesgana, though. She shouldn’t get drunk around anyone who she is not completely comfortable with. That makes me angry. That’s careless. What if I wasn’t there? Scott can hardly be trusted to stick up for her. Scott himself is trying to get into her pants.

Scott’s pretty much harmless. He is more interested in black girls than her. He can’t avoid that. I don’t know if he’ll ever marry one, but he will never give up his search for one.

Mesgana is dangerous. Highly emotional, but also very selfish. He mentioned he found Shelly (Nina’s friend) attractive when she started avoiding him. I saw him heading out with her today.

Inya thinks Nina is playing a very large and elaborate game, whether she’s aware of it or not. I’m not sure that’s true, Nina seems (almost) as naive as I am. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s dangerous. I don’t know she can take care of herself, and that scares me.
She can only get me to do so much, though. I had the chance to be super-protector last night, and I didn’t. I felt like I could have swept her clean off her feet, but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why completely. She’s very pretty, very smart, and has a wonderful personality. But I don’t feel right. It’s not going to happen. I won’t do anything more than look out for her as a friend, regardless of what she did.

All this scares me, because I need to talk to Nina about who she drinks around. She had trouble walking. That is going too far if she’s not comfortable.

Also, Inya is still only as friends.

My own thirst for love bothers me. I want to love so badly, and I realize how close I come to being satisfied, and yet it doesn’t happen, either by my hand or by that of another.

I’m not going to give up on a fairy tale. I’m not going to stop seeing beauty, and thirsting for it.

Inya is changing. She read to me her character sketch for a piece she’s doing for Intro to Acting. It’s a fight between a married couple; a black woman and white man. They’re divorcing in the play, but in her character Inya points out why she thinks the marriage failed, and why it wouldn’t for her. She talks about how here view on interracial marriages is changing for the better.

I want someone to remember me.
I want to have something worth leaving behind.
I hope I feel still feel small when I stand beside the ocean.
I hope when one door closes that one more opens.
I will give faith a fighting chance.
I hope I dance.

Mood: .: Sunbeam Inside :.
Listening to: .: India.Arie – Voyage to India CD :.
Reading: .: Don’t Believe the Hype – Farai Chideya :.
Watching: .: The Colour Purple :.

Aloha!

I had a pretty cool weekend.

Christian VanGorder was a former professor at Messiah College.
Sherki was my instructor for Hip Hop practice, and she was busy this weekend, so she was unable to babysit Dr. VanGorder’s kids. She knew I loved kids, and so she asked me if I wanted to make a little extra cash.

I said sure, and so that’s where I was the whole weekend.
Their kids are really really cool. The littlest, Mikey, is about 5 and is the most hilarious little kid you’ve ever met. If you’ve seen “Corrina Corrina”, he’s just like the little nephew of Corrina.
Keegan, the girl of the family is about… 9 I think… and laughs at absolutely everything. We watched cartoons all Saturday morning, and she almost fell on the floor laughing!
Brandon is about 11 and is the most wily prankster I think I’ve met. He’s also a comedian, and is constantly fooling around. You can’t help but laugh at them.
Patrick, the eldest, however, is about 16 and is too cool for everything. I stayed out of his way, and he stayed out of mine.

They’re all (save for Pat) really responsible kids, though. They didn’t object when I had them do a few chores and clean up. Well behaved. We had such fun, too. Played Monopoly (I’m still in my 5 year without loosing streak), Spy, Othello, and played soccer outside… all kinds of stuff.

I loved cooking for them too, I had free reign of the kitchen, and so made up all kinds of dinners. We also order Chinese and Pizza too. I had a blast.

Oh!

And Friday Night, before I left, I watched “The Colour Purple” with INYA. 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀
That movie is awesome. It’s Inya’s favorite movie, I think. Whoopi and Oprah BOTH deserve academy awards for their work in that. To say nothing of Spielberg’s absolutely fantastic cinematography. Any man who can make “An American Tail”, “ET”, “Schindler’s List” AND ” The Colour Purple” has to be the best best BEST director ever.
Anyways. That film made me cry, several times. I don’t think Inya noticed, though, because I hid it pretty well.
But it was cool.

Interesting thing was… she walked over here.
It is freezing outside. Cuts-you-like-a-knife freezing, your-face-can’t-move-for-half-an-hour freezing.
Inya is Nigerian.
She hates the cold.
And she walked over here.

…and I over exaggerate-anyways–
My phone was engaged ’cause Fred my roomie was talking on it, and we had talked about watching it before, so maybe that’s why.
In any case, this was right after Bible Study, so naturally the house was full of people. I asked her if she wanted to watch it here or at her place. I thought she might like a little privacy, since she had said before that sometimes she worried about what other people might think of us hanging out together.
She said no, and that she’d like to watch it here.

We went downstairs and began watching it.
A short while later Agaba came down wanting to watch “The Amistad”. She had wanted to watch it with me, but I hadn’t committed because I knew it might have been a possibility that I’d finally see “The Colour Purple” with Inya. Inya basically shooed her out, telling her to watch it somewhere else.

Randomly people came down to see what we were up to, but didn’t stay much. Richard, of course, tried to be a punk and bugged the heck out of us. I chased him away several times after he seriously disrespected Inya (he touched her HAIR).
I would have knocked his block off, but once I got him out the door I returned because I figured he wasn’t worth it, and I didn’t want to miss the movie.

It was so nice. I walked her home afterward.
And, I found I was able to control myself fine. I didn’t over exaggerate things, and left it as a friendship. I’m quite proud of myself, seeing as how strong the feelings are. I feel comfortable around her.

Anyways, I called her when I got home tonight and we talked for a while.
She was all worn out, and on her last threads. She had studied for Intro to Acting all weekend long, practically non-stop and was really sick of it. She was pretty tense, and worry a lot about getting older (she just turned 20).
I let her talk for a while, and listened to her. She was pretty beat. I was able to calm her down a bit, though, and help her not to worry. I dunno. I feel so protective of her. It’s a privilege she doesn’t give to anyone else… she trusts me.
I value that so much.

I wrote a lot over the weekend, but I think it’s too personal for now, so most of you won’t hear it. Sto, if you’re reading this, I might have you edit some of my poems if you don’t mind.

Here’s to a good week ahead!

Mood: Sunbeam Inside
Listening to: Besaid Island – FF Piano

Aloha!

So, the semester has started.
And we’re still good friends.
Okay, it might not be love, but the bond is very strong. I don’t know what it is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this strong between two people. Especially not ones my age, anyways.
We’ve been talking a bit about the bounds of the relationship, but every time we talk we come to some sort of agreeing conclusion, and the next time we see each other, we’re still comfortable around one another.
AS MUCH as this is what I’d want for the perfect love, she does not feel it…
…and so I’m willing to let it go…

…and I am.

The night before last, we had talked on the phone, and she said she thought we needed to spend less time around each other. Inya’s closest friend was coming the next day, and she wanted to spend time with her before she took off for England. I said I understood.

Yesterday we met up in Chapel, and she seemed kind of down. She said she was tired, and we walked back to Climenhaga together since we both have class there.

Lisa invites me every day to go to lunch. She’s in my Figure Drawing class, and she has more than enough meals on her card for the semester, so I eat with her.
Inya appeared right behind us in line at the door, but since Lisa’s a little shorter and Inya’s 6’3″ like me, she didn’t see her. I smiled at her, and asked her softly if she wanted to eat with us. The lunchroom was packed, and it was going to be hard finding seats. She shook her head and said no. She still seemed down. I wasn’t sure if it was still being tired, or if was something else; but I got worried.

We split up to get seats, then got our trays to get food. This time I ended up in line behind Inya, and so I asked her if everything was alright. She said she was just tired and didn’t feel like socializing with people much, especially people she didn’t know too well. I smiled and said that was fine, then we both disappeared into the crowd for lunch.

I could tell she was tired. She sat on the far side of the cafeteria, near the wall with a few international kids. And I could tell. It drove me nuts. I didn’t want to leave Lisa, because it’s the only way I’m able to eat lunch every day since I’m taking 2 J-Term classes… but I felt so … protective. I wanted to be near Inya, if only to sit at the same table just to make sure she’s alright.
I always feel that to some degree when I’m around someone I care about. It’s not an active thing, especially not one that one would find stifling, but it gives me a peace of mind if I can at least read them to make sure (as far as it concerns me) they’re ok.
I wasn’t able to, and it was driving me mad.
Of course, I naturally blew it out of proportion. She had told me she was tired, and this was obvious, but I also entertained worries that it might also be that she was attempting to spend less time together.

I thought the rest of the day about that. Caroline had suggested the same thing when we had first started going out, for fear that we were moving too fast, and we needed to be friends longer in order to control ourselves.
And it had backfired. We started taking on too much of the burden to keep from tempting the other, and then when we did let down our barriers, the torrent of passion was almost beyond what we could handle.

I didn’t want this to happen again. I knew the biggest problem was a lack of trust with Caroline; we didn’t trust each other enough to be comfortable around each other. I made up my mind to tell Inya.

I went to Pagoda practice after class. We spent a lot of time messing around, then a lot of time practicing our old songs. I got really tired of it. Probably due to thinking so much, but I also was tired of all the depressing and angry songs we had. I’m either romantically sad or insanely happy. I don’t do anger very well, nor depressions. I don’t see much point in listening to that kind of music unless it is really interesting musically (Linkin Park’s Reanimation) because I’m affected by the music I hear.
In any case, I got through it and I wrote a brand new part to Shame Shame. I hope I remember it.

When I got home, I found a message on my machine. 🙂
I called her back, and we talked for a couple hours. She told me how Renee, her closest friend, had miserably stood her up. It wasn’t pretty. She really needed to talk about it, and we talked about all kinds of stuff. It made me feel good, just to know she was feeling better. Eventually we talked of some deeper stuff, and I asked her to simply trust me. She said she never trusted anyone completely, but she understood what I was trying to say. I also asked her to promise me one thing, and I would be ok.
I asked that if she ever felt anything towards me, that she would tell me. She said she would.

If I know that, I’m ok.
She asked that I not just wait around for her, and I won’t.
It will take a while to slowly subside, though. It will take time and energy simply because it’s so deep. But I have no doubts I can do it, and I know she’s happy.
And so I’m happy. 🙂
As long as I know that, nothing else matters.

I feel like I have a sunbeam inside me. No matter what I do, it never goes away…

Song playing: Smile – Nat King Cole

Aloha..
..

We’re still best friends.

I guess I’m still confused, and a little hurt.
But I’m ok.
I am happy.

I love her enough to be her friend until she might fall in love with me.
I don’t know it will ever happen.
We might each find someone else.
But I don’t know. I still like her.
I’m toning myself down.
I’m not going to be the nut in love, and I’m going to be her friend.
She pointed out that the biggest problem was the inequality.
She wasn’t getting the same thing out of the time we spent together that I was, and I knew it. I was acting like a leech, blowing the simplest touch into something else in my head.
I can’t help it.
I’m the eternal optimist, I see things as exaggeratedly beautiful.
I’m not going to lose that. But I am going to be more tactful in how I react.
She needs to feel comfortable around me, and not scared to do anything a normal friend would do.

I want to be her best friend. I said it before, I don’t ever want to loose that.
And if it makes her happy, I can do that.

She’s right.
Even though I might not say it, I do want someone to love me unconditionally. Totally and completely in love with me. The cuteness, the playfulness, the love-you-till-you-die, the whole bit. She knows me better than I do.
And right now, she wants to play. She’s still young, she’s not looking for that kind of commitment.

Who knows. Maybe this is what I was supposed to learn. Maybe I’ll fall in love with someone else.

But when I fall in love; it’s completely. It’s BOOM. I’m gone.
so it’s very hard to pull out. But I can.

We’ll see what happens next.

Classes start tomorrow.

I called her tonight.
Dang, I haven’t talked about any formal stuff in a while.
We played a bunch of games at Rafiki tonight, and she was out so I left her a message on her phone.
Games wasn’t much fun, so I played piano and sang with Justin.
Got done with that and gave her a call.
She didn’t seem to be doing to well, and it sounded serious. T’wasn’t me, but I felt bad for her. She sounded really blown out.
I think I’m going to send her a card tomorrow.

Anyhow.
I’m ok.
I’m mellow by myself, and absurdly wild to cover it up when I’m with others.
Normal.

Toooooooo many thoughts all going on at once.
I am barely able to keep hold of myself, and no, it’s not good.

After a very long trip, I made it home… at 6, or thereabouts.

The first thing I did was to check my mail.
The second thing I did was to go visit Inya.
The third thing I did was write this journal.

We talked a long time. About very deep stuff.
My head is reeling
My heart is aching
I don’t trust … anyone at this point.

There … just … isn’t the spark for her.
And that’s it.
That’s the wrench thrown into the gears.
That’s what’s blowing me apart.
That’s what’s going to make mon oreiller saline.

And yet; what I said holds true.
I’d be willing to give it up if she didn’t feel it.
I’d be willing to wait to see if she felt it.
I’d be willing to be hurt.

…it hurts…