This blog is just going to be me ranting and raving about everything I need to purge from my mind, so if none of it makes sense to you, don’t worry about it. I’m 99.99% sure nobody reads my blogs anyway, so we should be good. PS if there’s spelling/grammar mistakes anywhere throughout this entry, just ignore them. I’m going to be writing with reckless abandon for the next few minutes.
So a little while ago I posted a blog about a guy I went to high school with and became best friends with (which was since been deleted because I got paranoid—meaning this one will likely get deleted at some point, too). Basically, to sum it all up, he started to get flirty with me and send me strange text messages etc, etc. It just wasn’t stuff that “strictly friends” say to one another. He recently broke up with his girlfriend of 4 years and he started to text me everyday. At first it was just for him to vent and get everything off of his back and that was fine, I’d listen. But then he started asking me to cuddle and if I wanted to share a bed. I thought it was a bold move, even for him, and I didn’t really know how to respond to it. Anyways, since the break up, he’s come in to the city to see me once a week. He came in last night and we cruised around for a bit and went to our usual chill out spot and just talked for a good couple of hours, I think. And that was fine; we always had something to talk about. Then we went back to my room and we sat on my bed and watched Ghost Adventures and Supernatural for a little while. Then we were talking again and I was lying down on my bed with my feet up on the wall and he was sitting kinda by my head. He eventually laid down next to me and we just kept on talking about everything and nothing. I’d moved so I was lying on my stomach and my head was facing away from him. All of a sudden I felt his arm come around me and pull my back close to his front. At first I didn’t know what to do. So, I turned around and kind of cuddled up his front and he held me tighter—which, in hindsight, was probably a dumb idea on my part. Anyway, we just stayed like that, cuddling in complete silence on my bed for an hour. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. It was one of those moments where speech wasn’t necessary. I hung out with him again tonight but we were with a group of other friends so it was different, but that didn’t keep me from thinking about it the entire night. I still just acted like I normally would—I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Ask him why he cuddled me like that in front of all our friends, some of whom don’t even know he broke up with his girlfriend in the first place? I just don’t know what I’m supposed to make of that. Did it mean nothing or did it mean everything? Am I freaking out over nothing? Was it a “just friends” cuddle? Do those even exist? The way he was holding me and rubbing my back sure didn’t make it feel like it. Part of me says that there is no way what he did could mean anything other than what I think it means, but there’s always another part of me that doubts it. I keep thinking that he’ll end up getting back together with his girlfriend—which, quite frankly, I can see happening—and then what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to just erase that from my memory like it never happened in the first place? Because I don’t think I could do that. And even though I don’t know what to make of it, I know it’s going to hurt if it happens because of that one part of me that believes he did it for a real reason. So…I don’t know. I don’t know what it means. It scares me a little, the not knowing.
As if that’s not stressful enough, I just had to drop my psychology class to pick up another history class (this one’s on Britain and its empires…yay) last minute. I’ve missed 9 lectures and the thought of asking someone for their notes makes me so anxious I feel like I’m going to puke. So I’ll have to ask to meet with the professor and even that’s sketchy because he says in the syllabus that he won’t answer any questions about what somebody missed in class because it’s not a question that deserves any kind of answer. So I’ll have to create some sneaky questions about the syllabus or something…I don’t know. I’m fucked. I am so fucked. I’m hoping the textbooks I’ll have to buy will be good enough and I can just read through them to sort of learn what I’ve missed, but I don’t know if that’d be sufficient. Most every textbook I’ve bought for a history class was just a compilation of articles that we’d have to read and review in our tutorial sessions. They really were no help at all. So, we’ll see. I’m really dreading Monday, though.
Also I’m working on the new chapter of Mr. Armstrong right now because so many people have been hounding me to update it. It’s going slow because I have so much on my mind. It sucks when this shit hinders my writing, because that’s my one release from the bullshit and I can’t even escape it now. Ugh. I guess if you read that story this message might have a bit more meaning to it than if you don’t. If you don’t read it, just disregard everything I said there.
So that’s my life right now. It’s one big clusterfuck of confusion and anxiety. Does anybody want to trade? Because I’m just about at the end of my rope.
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