I don't yet understand why it hurts so much when he leaves, as it's only happened twice. The heart takes it's time in folding such tender memories, deciding whether it's love or lust, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I've been on both sides of the green grass. I'm sure of which I like better. I like consistency, I like monogamy. And apparently I'm looking in the wrong place or expecting things to move faster than they should. I expect too much.

I wish these tired eyes of mine would tell my body to sleep, but my body wants to bleed everything onto these pages. I just need to be more careful in my endeavors of possible prospects for boyfriends, not that I've made any huge mistake in this one so far, but still. Everyone tells me that it's inevitable that I will find someone who thinks I'm beautiful in all the ways I could possibly be, who will stay in on weekends and even weeknights just so that we can hold each other and watch t.v., and all those other things that most girls want in a relationship. But I don't want to believe it because I don't think it's possible.

Kevin and I had an interrupted conversation this afternoon about all types of stuff.

And I suddenly lost all my bad feelings, so there's no need to be awake any longer.