Oh me, oh my... it's been such a long time since I posted here. Mostly because life has been hectic beyond all belief. I tend to measure time in hair products, and it has been two conditioners and a shampoo since I last whined about my love life- or lack thereof.

I think it's pretty apparent by now that my life is not a Jane Austen novel, despite how much I'd like it to be. The guy that I would love to be my Darcy has stopped being such an ass, but we seem to have fallen into a sort of purgatory where he treats me wonderfully but views me like a friend. Which makes me anything but an Elizabeth, doesn't it...

In other news, life has been beating me into a pulp this past week. Wildfires destroying my childhood home, tragedy in my sister's life, and stalker drama in my own, not to mention classes, work, papers, and Darcy. I've been so distracted by all of this that I tend to wash my hair two or three times in a row, which is why I'm running through conditioner so quickly. Once I even put soap in my hair after mistaking it for shampoo. And then, when I realized my mistake, I proceeded to rewash my hair and then put soap in it again.

If I have any sanity left at the end of this semester, it will be a miracle. More than halfway over, thankfully, but going home means going home to face new problems, and leaving behind my old ones. Some of which- well, one in particular- I would love to have figured out. Unfortunately, the ball's in his court now. And as long as we can get along civilly, I think I'm okay with that.

I'm so sick of falling

Why does one's heart reach out for another to hold? I wouldn't say I need someone in my life, but sometimes I feel like my heart thinks otherwise. And it's never the passing fancy--that would be too simple--it's always a burning and ever consuming flame, the kind that crawls under your skin and into the center of your body and won't let go. Sometimes I don't even think it's for a person, rather for a feeling--the feeling to be needed in return, to be someone else's haunting presence.

There's this one right now who doesn't know I exist. Well, he knows I exist, but I don't think he could possibly know or reciprocate this fierce master to whom I am enslaved. He's just right--well, aren't they all. He's not perfect because I don't see anyone as being perfect, he's just right. At least for me. Perhaps. Maybe if we got to know each other better, maybe if we got a good judge of each other's characters, he'd see it too. Most likely it's just wishful thinking.

I shouldn't dwell. Dwelling leads to too active an imagination for my liking. Though it's hard to focus and my thoughts are fuzzy at the slightest mention of his name. Oh, how I wish I didn't feel this way. It's so bittersweet. The hope fills you ever so briefly, but the reality remains, stinging like no physical pain can. Oh I hate loving as much as I hate hating. Were I lacking of so much emotion, I might find this more bearable.