Neglecting the hell out of this since the start of the other site. Interaction is just more interesting I guess.

I feel like bettering myself.....studying for my SATs- unfortunately the CD I used cracked, so I have to wait till I find the next one, using HTML, or polishing my, -dare I say it?- math skills. Something scientific as opposed to artistic- odd for me. I should work on ideas for mission possible....not that I'm even officially in science olympiad yet. And I should probably wait to run ideas through my co-lympiads, but I probably will be basically in charge as I'll be the oldest one who worked on it last year, as well.

So, yeah, I'm gonna go do that. Hmmm....motivation, that's new for me. On with it!

Andrew was here tonight. After we came home from yet another pointless shopping spree with jenn that we were pressured into, as always, he announced his plans to attempt to find closure in a mystery relationship that ended years ago that no one knows anything about. He expects this to be a rather life-changing event, and he warned me that "if he came back from this and he was no longer the same person I fell half-in-love with, he would make it easy on me and break up with me."

He spent basically the rest of the night in his own thoughts, which was probably for the better, because neither of us were in that room. I was...probably a lot of places, more definitely one, and I layed my head on his leg and stared up as he sat in perfect posture and stared forward.

We were listening to Bon Jovi....when Bed Of Roses came on, I managed to catch his attention. I couldn't cry for it, I haven't cried, I don't think, since my crying streak ended, but I was so caught up in grief, and guilt, and histrionics so constant they've become real that I was shuddering. Shades of Jeff ran through my head, the way I held him before he left a few nights ago, lying on his floor tangled up in him, making a fool of myself in burger king with him, everything. If there's any one thing I need, it's him. And this sort of destroys me.

Jeff doesn't, and with any luck, will never occupy the part of my life that Andrew does. That's what Andrews for, they're definitively different things....but, god, who am I arguing with? I'm sick of writing things for other people's benefits...no matter how seldomly I do it. I need to turn to the journal I give Mr. Hall...there is nothing I don't tell Mr. Hall, I miss his praise being part of my life.

This is from a couple nights ago, when I saw Jeff, but it hasn't let me post anything for a few days.
"Watch TNT. Observe Harry and Sally from "When Harry Met Sally", which will undoubtedly be at least once if you check periodically every two hours for a day. Begin to understand why I love Jeff so much.

"I love that I after I spend a day with you, I can still smell my perfume on my clothing, and I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night."
-Part of the "why I'm in love with you speech" that Harry tells Sally

All except the part where Harry and Sally fall in love at the end, that movie is almost flawless representation of our relationship. I have seen him tonight, and it was blissful- we spent the night lying on each other on his floor, as we always do- we spurn needless furniture arrange ourselves, awkwardly shifting then and again, only getting up for trips to the bathroom or to get my soda. Every now and then, when conversation lags, I find some reason to attempt to kick his ass and lose every time. Laying against him, smelling his aroma in his skin and clothing, feeling the trust to give him the keys to my vulnerability and let him take the wheel for a while....nothing in life is better.

No, I am not in love with him, but I cannot think of anything that would make being in love with someone better than our relationship. I used to reserve the idea of being in love because I thought, for sure, that something must be beyond that, there must be another step. I didn't want to settle for the idea of true love being anything I had already felt. The reason I say that I am not in love with Jeff is, however, not because of that, but because I wouldn't betray our relationship to such a flimsy concept as romance- nothing will get in the way of his being everything to me....I say that with a resolve that reminds me of the way I said the same thing about Elorza and Jeremey and god knows how many others, but....I simply don't know what would happen to me if anything happened to end Jeff and I.

If I could grow old with him as my best friend, it would be worth growing old.

I am going to sleep while his scent still clings to my clothes and his visage is still burned on my mind....I had almost forgotten what he looked like. Amazing as it was to see him, the high slips away quickly. The moment I closed the door behind him the thought arose: This is the exact moment where I have the absolute longest to wait until I see him again.

I won't let that get in my way tonight, though. Tonight I will simply close my eyes and pretend I am sleeping in his arms, ready to strike at his next off-color joke and utterly at peace with the world and all the foreign, far-away demons in it.

On with it...."....

I'm listening to "Have U Ever" by fucking Brandy, a song I fell in love with simultaneoulsy as I gave my heart to Jonothan Lawless, the only person to which I ever gave it with that kind of fervor, bravery, and desperation.

It was during the Jon obsession that I learned words like "fervor", along with how to spell "obsession"- in a note I wrote to him confessing that I felt that way for him, I spelled it with a c.

Pain would be easier if I knew who I was hurting for. I think it may even be him....or Max. Or Mr. Ladd. The past. I am hurting for the unstoppable passage of time, and for the way I will never again lean against a locker staring at Jon's picture on the hallway wall, or watch Max from backstage at play practice and think that he was amazing, think that he could do anything. Sit in the town library and write feverishly in notebooks for every time I saw him, poetry when he touched me....the day he asked me to Dance Brazil, I was.....naive, he was only trying to save my life by spending time with me, but he accomplished his mission. I guess I've never owed anyone anything more than I owe Max- he still, to this day, is the only person I've ever known to actively try to help someone even if they had no reason to, even if it was just some awkward freshmen who made a habit of obsessing over older actor figures who would not readily be construed as incredibly attractive. But Max was attractive, in that simply one of the few genuinely altruistic people left in the world.

I guess I miss him. That must be what it is.

I am glad to be able to understand the difference between feeling an incredible privelige to know someone, an insatiable bond, even a platonic love, and being in love with them, now. I wish I had known that back then, when, had I been able to stop my freshman obsessing (stalking), I might have had more of a friendship with him than I did.

I was psychotic then, but I wasn't as dumb as I construe myself- I was attracted to Max as any woman would be attracted to her hero, and that's what he was to me, the only person on earth who cared when I needed someone to care, and I was in love with Jon for the same reason that he still holds my gaze whenever I chance meeting with him, the same reason my mind is still shocked that my knees don't buckle- he glowed. He was the first person for whom I had feelings such as I did for him, and that is not naive. It's beautiful.

I wish I were still that passionate about anything, sans the dangerously sick obsessive tendencies- I used to have the number on Jeremy Steenson's orthodonist file box memorized, and probably only forgot it fairly recently. Pathetic as some of my tendencies were, I suppose what's more pathetic than that is the fact that there is nothing anymore that reduces me to being so pathetic: I go about everything in my life with a certain pride that I would not have needed then, because my feelings were stronger than that.

I am far too proud.

I sent Max a message on ICQ yesterday night, and I went to check and he sent me six back. It makes me happy. His room was infested with lady bugs. I wrote back to him that lady bugs scare me, because they do. That's the sort of thing I wish I had the chance to talk to him about.
I think about now I'd give just about anything to relive my freshmen year. All the turmoil of that quintessential first year of high school. I need to be wrapped up in that sort of passion right now. I need it. I miss it. I loved it. I always say that 8th grade was the best year of my life, and it was, in many ways. But freshmen year......what a year. What an intensely wonderful year. I had a cast full of Our Town participatants that I wanted more than anything to model myself after, someone to love so desperately that it literally made me ache, my first experiences with drama, my first experiences with poetry, my first experiences with medication, and Mr. Ladd. I had Jill's house, and the smell of the woodstove and spiced meats running through it, to lose my catholic girl innocence in daily, and a rowdy, perfect band to play in that forever cemented my loyalty to it. I had counting cars with Serena and writing out max's name in stones with Emily. I had inspiration, and love, and trust. I had my freshmen year. I wish I still had my freshmen year.

I miss hugging Diana. I miss resenting Amy. I miss getting yelled at by Tre. I miss faking Mr. Ladd's signature and skipping classes. I miss group. I miss Adam and Scott making Judd laugh. I miss Judd. I miss Charlotte. I miss that list of people we didn't trust. I miss crying on Emily for the first time. I miss crying in front of Max in the library during study hall for the first time. I miss Miss McDaniel or however the hell her last name was spelled. I miss notes from chemistry class. I miss my locker.

I wish I could get it all back for a day. I can't. I think I've figured out what I'm hurting for.

My name is Linda, and I am older than I'd like to be. Don't ever neglect to think about how good you have it, especially when you think things are at their worst. On with it~