Friends with benefits? Don't sample the goodies unless you're willing to risk addiction and withdrawal.

On Sunday, Mlle. Johnston called me up and asked if I wanted to go see Friends with Benefits. I asked my mother and she said it was okay. So, we went and saw it with her mother, who also paid for me.

It’s a typical rom-com. It’s funny, has a happy ending where the guy realizes that he’s been in love with the girl the whole time. Well, life doesn’t work like that, but knowing that didn’t stop me from sharing my thoughts with M. Paff. I was only a quarter serious, but I jokingly—completely jokingly—asked him if he wanted to be mine, and he said he was 50/50 on the idea and he would need time to think about it before giving me an answer. I think he was serious. Well, the thing is, for the past couple of days, I’ve been complaining about how I wanted to be with someone after I found out that I actually did not kiss David, which is good, don’t get me wrong. Yes, I was disappointed, but I was very, very, very relieved.

Then today, M. Paff and I video chatted again for a bit until he started to play Black Ops at the same time. Sure, I love watching guys play Black Ops as much as the next girl, but I ended the call because I wanted to talk to M. Monge. Well, I didn’t tell him that, of course, but M. Paff wanted me to stay on so we could talk while he played. Um…I don’t ever want to be a second thought, so I said it was alright. Then, after a while, he said I looked good. I was like, “I’m not mad at you,” and he was like, “Are you going to take a compliment or are you going to overanalyze it?”

Well, I have a gigantic pimple on my nose, but, okay, I’ll take it. There was something I wanted to do uninterrupted, so I told everyone I was talking to that I was going to bed. That was at midnight, so it was understandable. So I downloaded music and synched my iPhone. I also worked on catching up with blog; it’s nice to be caught up—I’m still working on that.

Then, at about one, I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I texted/Skyped M. Paff asking if he was up, and he was. I told him I couldn’t sleep, and he seemed concerned—which is always nice. Then we talked, and he confessed that he’d been having weird thoughts lately and he was wondering if I’d be creeped out if I knew he was very seriously considering what I’d said the other day. The conversation got going and I told him that it wouldn’t be such a good idea for me to enter into a no-string-attached relationship with him if I was the least bit attracted to him, and I was a bit attracted to him. So, I’ll think he cares for me, when he doesn’t, and start to like him back, and that’s going to work in this kind of a relationship. He said that if I thought I couldn’t handle it, then it’d be a better idea to not get into it. I concurred.

Then he asked me why I even thought of the whole friends with benefits thing, and I told him basically everything. Then I asked him, and he said he wasn’t attracted to me (the nerves…haha jk), but, for some reason, he thought I’d looked really good today, so he started to reconsider it.

Okay, well, I think I’ve had better days, but the only thing I did differently today was I had my hair up. Now that I think about it, when I started to gather my hair to put it up, he’d stopped playing and started watching. Hmm…that’s interesting since M. Dow says I look a lot prettier with my hair down, but M. Paff prefers me with my hair up.

Just to clear things up, even if M. Paff and I got into that kind of a relationship, we most likely (95% sure) wouldn’t go all the way because I’d like my first time to be with someone who loves me.

But then again, I’ve been saying that my whole life about my first kiss.

Oh, I almost forget about M. Monge. I’m so glad he doesn’t see me as a piece of meat anymore. Now he sees me as a female friend he gets off to. Hah. Just kidding. Kind of.

But I like talking to him because even though he accuses me of asking the world’s weirdest questions, he answers me seriously, be it about college or sexual fetishes.

Depression is melancholy minus its charms - the animation, the fits.

I need to be around other people. I've started to develop dangerous thoughts--suicidal thoughts. I've been entertaining the notion that other people aren't real and conscious; the connections I've made with people are slowly being dissolved. It's awfully lonely being the only conscious person. It's really a chore to keep living and experiencing the ups and downs of life. There's just no point.

I don't want to age. I never want to grow old and look back at young people and knowing you'll never have that ever again. I'm gradually losing my youth right now.

I want to die quick and fast. A swift move and no pain at all. A coward's death.

It's alright. I'm not at that point where the contemplation of suicide morphs to planning yet. This is low, but I've been lower. I don't think I can get as low as I did the summer before junior year. That was crazy. I never want to go back to those days. I'm going to UCI orientation tomorrow; being around people will take my mind off of thinking. I'll be okay.

I hope I live past this hormonal stage. I think--I'm hoping, praying, wishing--that all my feelings right now stem from the flood of hormones the human body is subjected to at this age. If this is the case, then it means that I have an escape.

A girl and a guy can be just friends, but at one point or another they will fall for each other... maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever.

So SPOP was okay. It was boring, but we got to know each other a tiny bit better on the second days. I was very apprehensive about going to UCI in the fall. On the first day, all I could think about was how I didn't like it, how there were too many Asian girls here, and how it all felt so suffocating. On the second day, I didn't mind it as much.

After that, I drove to Monsieur Paff's house and we went out to eat. He was cuter in person than he was on Skype, and I was self-conscious at first; I couldn't hold eye contact with him for a long time.  It was disguise-able in the car, where my eyes were supposed to be on the road anyways.

When we got to the restaurant--a neat little place where M. Paff is friendly with the manager--the manager looked at me and then looked at M. Paff knowingly, like, "ooh, you got a girl", but when we asked for separate checks, I think he realized that we weren't together.

At one point, when we were sitting in a booth across from each other and talking, he smiled and I thought he looked really adorable; when he talked, he sounded adorable, but I didn't have a crush on him. I might have been a bit attracted to him, but I definitely did not have a crush on him.


After dinner, we went to a nearby Asian market because M. Paff had always wanted to go but never went because he said he felt weird going to an Asian market as a white guy. We did. He was fascinated. Then we went to the movie theater, but the movies were too late, so he asked his mother if I could come to the house. Surprisingly, she said I could; I just couldn't come upstairs to his room and get impregnated. Busted.


He introduced me to his mother and sister and his sister's boyfriend, then we went on his laptop and just had fun. When it was time for me to leave, he walked me to my car and gave me a hug. Like, a really good hug compared to the crappy, awkward ones the guys from Aldor, my hall for SPOP, gave me.

A man who exposes himself when he is intoxicated, has not the art of getting drunk.

Oh, my God, Mlle. Johnston needs be more selective. So after David and I left, she and Phil were supposed to leave also since he was all kissing her face. Well, she went and got her stuff only to realize that Phil was gone. She was pissed, so when this Filipino asked to buy her a drink, she said yes. Then he followed her around. I don't know how she shook him off when she was so drunk, but she did before going back to the room. She told me all this at 4:30 in the morning because I accidentally locked her out.

Mlle. Johnston and I visited Ensanada, Mexico today. There were a fuck load of guys in cars who kept honking at us. I think the "Best Pick Up Line" award goes to the guy who stood in front of a shop and went, "Come in, ladies. Models pay less." It feels good to be checked out wherever you go; it makes you feel desirable and almost invincible.  Yes, I never knew being viewed as a piece of meat could feel so good.

Anyways, we went to a bar and each got a margarita, but Mlle. Johnston also got a shot of Kahlúa. I felt off after I drank a bit more than a quarter of it, but I drank a quarter more. When I moved, it felt like I was moving faster than my brain could register. Like, my brain was slow in registering it. These two men came to the bar and talked to us, but we left a bit after that. Mlle. Johnston kept giggling, but I was okay. Actually, I felt very witty and clever, and I like that feeling. It was just a bit off, and I thought if I would just walk slower and more deliberate, no one would know that I was tipsy. The paranoia was kind of fun; it made me feel like I was on a secret mission.

We found David a bit and played cards with him. The waiter that Mlle. Johnston fancies was outside one of the clubs, and I told her to go talk to him since it would be a bit inappropriate for him to talk to her since he worked there. So she was like, "I've seen you around a lot," and he was like, "Yeah? Where have you seen me?" even though we thought this whole time he was looking at her at dinner. Boo. What a douche.

So we played cards and the Filipino guy came. Okay, so when Mlle. Johnston and I were sunbathing this morning, he came over and it was majorly awkward and she was avoiding him. Anyways, the table has four chairs, and we used the extra chair as a place to keep our purses. He made a motion to sit down, but I was like, "We're waiting for someone to come," so he stood there as the three of us played cards. Once it got really awkward, David suggested we go to the Deck Party, and we left. The Filipino guy didn't follow us, thank God. But the Deck Party wasn't fun, so we went to the karaoke thing, and it was hilarious to watch drunk people sing. Then we went to the Rex.

Like, since we played cards and stuff together, I thought our relationship was purely platonic but when we were back on the dance floor, it was me and David dancing together again. Okay. No big deal since we were just two friends dancing together. But after a while, he put his arms around my waist and we repeated what we did yesterday. It was all fun and good.

And then there's Mlle. Johnston. Since David and I were dancing together, she got bored and had a smoke. This guy came over and asked for a smoke too--when we were discussing the night later on, I told her to not give out her cigarettes anymore; it's supposed to be the other way around--and they started talking. K. Thing is...while we were dancing, I saw him have two bottles of beer, and when they started talking, he asked for a bottle of beer, a disco ball, and a shot each for him and her. Yeah. She was sensible enough to know that she couldn't finish all that. She only drank the disco ball, and she told me to drink it with her when he left for the bathroom. I did; it was yummy.

David and I danced some more before he said we should go check on Mlle. Johnston. We've been checking on her periodically through out the night, and she seemed like she was getting on well, but David wasn't convinced, so I came over, and I was like, "Hey, you okay?" and she was like, "Yeah, I'm okay," and I was like, "You don't seem okay," and she didn't seem okay then because the whole time we were talking, he had his hand on the back of her thigh, near her ass. She pushed him away for a bit and scooted closer to me and whispered, "I think I'm drunk; I want to leave." I said, "Well, then let's leave," but she was like, "He's gonna follow us," and I was like, "It's alright; I can take care of him," and she was like, "No, you can't. He's in the Marines," and I was like, "Well, David's gonna help us out, so get up."

We told him--his name was Scott. Boo--that we were going to walk around. We took the elevator up to Lido and got pizza to buy time. Then Mlle. Johnston announced that she needed to go to the bathroom, and I said I'd come with. David and Scott went outside onto the deck. A few minutes later, David came back and the three of us literally ran to the elevator and David delivered us safely to our room.

Mlle. Johnston thanked David and I for being good friends, and David said, "Well, I consider you guys my friends which was why I played cards with you guys. I only play cards with family and friends, not strangers." Well, I'm glad we've made a good friend.

Then Mlle. Johnston and I talked about the night. She complained about how I get nice guys and she gets creepers. Well, I bail when I sense the creepiness. She just needs to learn how to say no.

Oh, yeah. So on the first night, before things got going, we were really bored, so we just hung around the Atrium and people-watched. We spotted a group of cute guys, but they looked pretty douchey, so we just planned on doing some quick and harmless flirting. But when we decided on what to do, they began to leave, so, on a whim, I stopped them to ask for the time when they walked past us. Well, the guy who answered had on a red shirt that said "Canada" in white. When David and I were dancing together on the first night, guess what shirt he was wearing. Yup, but when I asked him if it was us who asked for the time, he didn't remember. But he figured out that it WAS us tonight. 

All women are flirts, but some are restrained by shyness, and others by sense.

The day is starting off horribly. I had killer cramps yesterday so Mlle. Johnston gave me Midol to help, but there's caffeine in Midol and I took it at 2 AM since we got back at probably a bit later than half past one.  I was up till 3 writing the entry for Monday but still wasn't tired or sleepy, but I forced myself to sleep anyways.

But you know those uncomfortable and headache-inducing dreams where the same dream and a couple of its variants are looped over and over again? Normally, I would realize something was off and woke up, but I guess I was so tired physically that I couldn't escape it. Well, I guess I did for a couple of times but I couldn't tell the difference between the dreams and reality so I'm not so sure. I woke up a few minutes before six despite going to bed at half past three. Why couldn't I be like this during the school year?

The whole day, I felt off; Mlle. Johnston kept asking if I was okay. I was; I just didn't feel like eating or doing anything productive. We went to Catalina and went back because I was feeling very lethargic. I intended to sleep for half an hour but ended up napping for only 15 minutes and couldn't sleep anymore.

Mlle. Johnston took her time and forever getting ready for the formal dinner. I wore my black prom dress and Mlle. Johnston wore this tiny little black dress that made her look really hot, especially with the red lipstick. I was pissed when she took forever to get ready but it was partly out of jealousy since she looked hot and more appropriate than I was since the people who bothered to dress up wore homecoming or cocktail dresses so I stuck out--which turned out to be good since there were a bunch of people complimenting me on my dresses. However, the waiter that Mlle. Johnston fancies didn't even properly glance at me twice, but he did a double take for her, so it's all good.

We went to the Flashback party, which was a dud since it was more for much older people. We bailed on that and went to the Comedy Show. That was hilarious.

Then we came back again for the Salsa dancing, which was officially called the Latin Party. We met David and Phil there with their other cousins. We danced with them even though none of us knew how to dance to this kind of music. David suggested that we should go to the Comedy thing at midnight, since we would have a great laugh instead of dancing awkwardly to Latin music.

So we went got that, and the seating arrangement was lIke this: Mlle. Johnston me David, which was a bit awkward since I thought he was interested in Mlle. Johnston more. During the thing, Mlle. Johnston leaned over and whispered, "I think you should kiss him...you have to make the first move." I was like, "What? But he likes you though." She just laughed and shook her head. So during the skit, whenever the comedian said something outrageously funny, I would laugh and bump into him or lightly touch his arm. Well, I received no response so I stopped. No hard feelings; just a confirmation that I was right.

We went back to the club and, thank God, they were finally playing our music. Okay, so when I walked in, I saw this really cute guy staring at me, so, for some reason, I held his gaze for the longest time as I walked to the dance floor with a smirk on my face. Then David came in and we danced together for the whole night. Sometimes he would put his hands on my waist, and, not wanting it to be awkward, I put my arms around his neck. Sometimes I would lean in closer, and he would hug me even tighter. If it got to that, I'd just put my head on his shoulder and rest for a bit while dancing, if that makes sense. His shoulders were a tad higher than I could reach, so it was a bit like me putting my head on his chest, my nose against his clavicle. The whole time, I was just thinking how good, how much better this whole situation would be if it was somebody I actually liked...well, like, have romantic feelings for.

Having said that, the next part will seem so illogical. When we were that close to each other, I wondered what he'd do if I kissed him on the cheeks. Well, I decided to see for myself, so I tiptoed and leaned in, aiming for his cheek, but he saw me moving in, so he thought I was going to kiss him; well, he turned his head so I could meet his lips. I think our lips did brush, and since I didn't end up where I intended to, I panicked and slid over to where his cheek was. It was awkward, not gonna lie. On a scale of one to ten, this incident is a solid seven. When that failed, I returned to his chest/shoulder and kind of laughed in his neck. I guess he could feel it since he kind of nuzzled back and hugged me tighter.

Mlle. Johnston said that Phil thought I was being a tease for not grinding on David. Mlle. Johnston said that I should grind on David since "it's fun." I've considered it and decided that since I'm not comfortable doing that and since I think it makes me feel and look cheap, I won't be doing it--I think I totally fucked up the verb tenses in that last sentence.

Point is...I try to keep it clean and classy--well, my definition of clean and classy, that is.

And then, you know, I launch into another story of my flirtation for the night. So...I kept getting really thirsty, and David would come with me to get water every time. He's such a gentleman; all those time that I got water, he was always the one pouring.  So my foot was kind of cramping up so we just stood side by side, arms touching and just kind of grooved to the music. He was going to go to UCI--small world?

Toward the end of the night, we sat next to each other, and I had my head on his shoulders. Then I asked if he thought I was a tease and he said "not at all." Then I think I nodded off on his shoulders for a bit. Like, a few minutes. After that, we went to get the schedule for tomorrow, and he walked me to my room. 

Adventure without risk is Disneyland.

So when we first started, Mlle. Johnston wandered around the ship. I don't remember what our purposes were, but, truth be told, we were bored and disappointed that guys didn't hit on us. Conceited? Very. I guess we were just trying to look busy until the club opened, which was 10 PM. We got followed by a bunch of black teenage boys who were hitting on us. We stupidly went into this empty bar where they kind of cornered us until my daddy walked in. He didn't know what was going on, but I told one of the kids that he was my daddy and he was an ex-Marine; they all scrammed after that. Mlle. Johnston was a bit peeved that I did that since they kind of were our source of fun. We chatted with this cute Australian fitness trainer; he seemed nice enough, but I don't think he was interested.

So at 10, we left for the club, where NO ONE was in. Lame. So we went to watch an okay show with dancers and comedians. Then we went to the Single and Ready to Mingle event at the same club as before (it's called Rex, by the way), and we were like, "Okay, if there's no one there, let's bail."

There were some people, but the people dancing, at first, were mostly drunk and unattractive. They all couldn't dance, so we didn't dance at first because we didn't want to be associated with that. But we finally went for the dance floor fifteen minutes in. At first, I was so nervous because there were about eleven people on the dance floor, so Mlle. Johnston and I were very easily seen and easily judged. Plus. Mlle. Johnston is a dancer and she danced very sexily, and I didn't want to be compared to that.

Well, I got into it soon enough and this guy named Nick came up and introduced himself and said he saw me in the parking lot earlier in the day and thought he's come and say hi. I introduced myself and we kind of danced together in a group, but I got thirsty, so I went to the bar to drink water.

Well, I was by myself since I told Mlle. Johnston to keep dancing, and this older guy came up and introduced himself; his name was David and he saw me around the pool and thought he'd come over and say hi. Seriously? Like, you can't come up with something more clever than that? He turned out to be 29. Eww. Twenty five is my cut off age. Plus, I was sitting in the stool next to him and I could smell the liquor on his breath. Monsieur Dow told me once that I should just try just sit there all pretty and not be all that talkative, and if a guy's truly interested, he'll bend over backward to keep making conversation. That kind of did happen even though I didn't intent for things to go that way; he'd keep saying something and I'd comment on it politely and that'd be it. This one song came up and I was desperate to get rid of him so I was like, "I LOVE this song!" and started leaving, but then I felt bad so I was like, "You wanna come with?" and of course he followed.

I returned to where we were dancing, where Nick grabbed my hand and started to twirl me round and round. It was fun at first until I realized that he wanted my butt, which had been facing the corner to avoid unwanted grinders, to be right in front of his crotch. Hell no; I'm not going to let some random ass drunk guy I just met stick his junk in my back business, so I kept twirling and twirling and keeping my butt to the wall. Problem solved.

Then Mlle. Johnston got thirsty and I went with her to get a drink, with David of course. He offered to buy us drinks, but I didn't want to get drinks from him, so I politely declined. Mlle. Johnston wanted some though, but they wouldn't let him buy it for her. He let her drink some of the stuff he was drinking even though he knew we were 18. I thought it'd be okay to leave her with him for a few seconds since he was so awkward and I was sure that he'd not do anything inappropriate with her, so I left for the bathroom multiple times that night since Aunt Flo is a bitch who won't leave me the fuck alone. I was wearing my tight stripe dress which looked lovely, but it was so tight that if I wore a pad, it would be visible to creeps who stared at my butt. I'm having major problems with tampons so toilet paper was the next best thing even though that meant I had to change often. Aunt Flo is much like my mother, who came to the Single and Ready to Mingle event and WATCHED us. Thank God we were not doing anything inappropriate when she was watching. Moments before, Mlle. Johnston was smoking and grinding on someone--not at the same time of course. I asked her to leave, and, surprisingly, she did without a hassle.

Well, that is...until I got bored of sitting at the bar once when this funny black guy grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. I saw this cute guy dancing by himself and started dancing in front of him. Gradually, we got closer and closer but never close enough for any part of him to touch me even though I would sometimes accidentally brush his knees or upper legs. We were having a good time until I saw the funny black guy dancing with another woman but Mlle. Johnston was nowhere to be found. I kept dancing with the same guy, but I kept looking around and found her with Creeper David at the bar and he gave her something to drink. I kept dancing around, but moments later, she and Creeper David was gone and I couldn't find them anywhere.

At this point, on a scale of one to ten, my freaking out level was a high 6. I don't get freak out easily; almost nothing even gets pass four, so six is pretty high. I stopped dancing and started looking around. Since my back was to the bar when we danced, I asked my dancing partner if he'd seen where she went. He didn't know, but he  went with me to ask some of the people who worked there for her whereabouts, and one of them got us to the right place. She was smoking where we were sitting when the club started, but then I saw Creeper David uncomfortably close to her. I tried asking her if she was okay from where I was dancing but I'm nearsighted and that club was dark, so I couldn't tell. I didn't want to just come over there and dragged her over. At one point, she came over and she was like, "Hey, are you okay?" and I was like, "Are YOU okay?"

She wasn't, but he followed her to us, so I grabbed my dancing partner's shoulders and spoke to his ears, "hey, is it alright if she dances with us? That guy's 29." He said it was okay, so I immediately grabbed her hands and we danced with my dancing partner too. Well, Creeper David came on the dance floor and started dancing with her again even though my dancing partner and I tried our hardest to keep them separated.

A few minutes later, another guy came and grabbed my dancing partner and shouted to me, "This is my little cousin!"  I laughed and waved hello to the "little cousin" and the older cousin started dancing with me and his cousin. Suddenly, I grabbed him and said, "can you dance with my friend over there?" he was like, "yeah, sure" and he grabbed her and pulled her toward him while Creeper David was still grinding on her. They had tons of fun dancing thisclose to each other while Creeper David watched on; he didn't leave till much later.

When the problem with Mlle. Johnston was situated, I turned to the little cousin and thanked him. I asked him for his name and he said "David." Great. He asked for my name and I told him.

Anyways, throughout the night, David was dancing very, very close to me, but I always backed away while dancing. Sometimes I would be backed to the wall, but I always found a way to turn and go the other way.

Anyways, at one point, I put my hands on his shoulders to ask him a question, since he would lean closer and give me his ear. Well, this time, for some reason, I kept it there a bit too long, and he took it as an invitation to put his hands on my waist, where they eventually slipped down to my hips. So, when the faster beats came, I took my hands off his shoulders and threw them in the air; to shake off HIS hands, I jump-danced and turned around. Bad move. He grabbed my hips again and now my butt was to him and I could feel him trying to get closer. I was just trying to inch unnoticeably forward to counteract his moving forward. Then the faster beats came again and I danced just out of reach. Disaster averted.

Toward the end of the night, there were only three couples on the dance floor and I was the only one of them not grinding and touching.

At one point, I got thirsty and told David. He came with me to get a drink and Mlle. Johnston and the older cousin--Phil--came over too, but before they did, this guy asked to come between David and I when we were talking to grab some water. No big. He accidentally spilled some on my thighs and he said, "Sorry" to me and turned to David and said, "I'll leave it to you to wipe it for her," with a wink and left. I wiped it myself before he could get to it. Mlle. Johnston told me that Creeper David just grabbed her ass and started grinding when she was smoking.

Phil left and Mlle. Johnston danced with us. There was only one couple left on the dance floor and they were dirty dancing, like, no joke.

All of a sudden, I felt a pair of arms grabbing my arms, but I didn't panic because I could tell they were a woman's hands: warm and motherly. She leaned in to whisper in my ears "I don't know..." Millions of thoughts raced through my head before she could finish the sentence: if you know, but dancing that close with a guy like that is very risqué/if you know, but you're bleeding through your dress/ if you know, but your bloody pad's fallen to the floor...worst case scenarios like that. Instead, she said, "I don't know how you get your lovely body to move like that, but I think I should let you know that you're a beautiful dancer." I laughed and thanked her. That totally made my night.

I don't know why, but I think David became more interested in Mlle. Johnston than me after she joined. No big, I'm not interested in him. I'm just glad I was dancing with him and not some creep who would try harder to press against me. Us four made plans to do Salsa dancing tomorrow even though I can't salsa for shit. 

All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring.

Okay, so M. Dow said he wanted to delete his online friends to focus on real life. He even blocked me to not feel tempted to talk, but then he felt bad and added me back. We talked for awhile today.

So...life's been boring. My mother's still nagging and bitching everyday. I'm still low on money since my mother won't pay me; I've been saving up tips to pay for my dorm stuff since I don't want to ask my parents unless I absolutely can't do it myself. But my mother says I've made over $1000 since the beginning of summer. YEAH.

I found these poems that I really like:

"They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before,—
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more."

Will I ever be the onewho gets to hold you tightWill I ever be the oneto hear your last goodnightWill I ever be the onewho’s hand you gladly takeWill I ever be the onenext to whom you wakeWill I ever be the onethat holds you when you cryWill I ever be the onethat never hears goodbyeWill I ever be the oneto whom you give yourselfWill I ever be the onein sickness and in healthWill I ever know the reasonthat our paths were meant to crossWill I ever know the gainthat is someone else’s loss

This one's a bit melodramatic, but I like it.

STEPHON kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Stephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day. 

I'd love to be looked at by Colin.

Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget.

M. Dow deleted me on Skype! What the hell? I'm so confused. Like, I can't think of why he would. Okay, so possible explanations:

1. He's mad at me for some reason--Very unlikely since he's the kind of person that would call me out on it and not just delete me without an explanation.
2. His girlfriend's deleted me--Possibly since I do look cute in my profile picture, not gonna lie. Oh, no, that's not a valid reason. But if she was snooping and came across our conversations, the chances of her not thinking rationally and deeming our conversations flirty would be actually as high as 70%.
3. His mom's boyfriend does away with him--A bit likelier than number one, but not much.  Like, 10%. 

I hope he's okay and nothing bad's happened. I know he wouldn't just delete me like that.

Oh, I'm over M. TP by the way. For a couple of days now. Thank God. I won't have to worry about him until Vu Lan. 

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.

Dear Monsieur TP,

I'm not okay with not seeing you everyday. Actually, I'm missing you like crazy. Everyday, every year, I tell myself I'll get over you, and I do...for the moment. Then I see you and I fall right back to square one.

I know Vu Lan is in the summer, but I don't know when. I've convinced my mother to go to your temple even though it's 44 minutes away. I can't wait to see you even though I know seeing you means I'll have to deal with the possibility of you forgetting about me.

I shouldn't have set my alarm ringtone as "Miss You" by Ed Sheeran during my stay there. I remember trying to wake myself up at five in the morning just so I could be near you setting up tables. Heck, I even listened to Buddhist lectures just to sit a few centimeters away from you. If that's not dedication, I don't know what is. But that's beside the point. Now every time I wake up to that song, I think of you even if I'd promised myself minutes before that I would forget about you.

I don't have the heart to change the ringtone. I like that song and I like you and I like how it reminds me of you even if it's the most painful feeling in the world, liking and missing someone. Upon waking and hearing that song and thinking of you, all my happiness drains and rushes down to my feet, dragging me down with it. My whole body feels like lead and my heart disappears, leaving a gaping hole where it should have been.

I can feel myself slipping away from sanity. I'm going crazy. All I can think about is you even though I can no longer conjure up your face in my mind--a damnable side effect of doing it too much.

I was cleaning out my closet today and I found one of the hairnets that I've used for An Cu Kiet Ha, and I threw it out after much deliberation only to immediately snatch it back from the trash because it reminded me of you and of our time together. I went and threw it out again because I was being ridiculous; it was a hairnet--I'd never use that hairnet again. And I got it out of the trashcan again. That went on for the third time until I stuffed it all the way to the bottom of the trashcan and took the trash out.

And when I looked up the distance between the temple and UCI, I nearly cried. One hour and twenty two minutes away.

My brain is telling me it won't work out between us; my heart doesn't want to believe it. Is it horrible for me to hope, wish, and pray that you're experiencing the same horrible feelings too?

Love,

Moi