Then somebody loves you just enough

(Bernard Fanning, from Powderfinger)

Today was a tough day. I woke up from a dream about being molested (very vivid, extremely disturbing.) to groggily drive to school and sit through chem and bio, all while feeling nauseous and guilty about food and anxiety about the test I have to turn in by Thursday morning. Then I got a text from J (a million minutes late, because the Science Center apparently sucks whatever signal there is along with a few souls.) For the past three weeks I've been diddling along, trying to get on with whatever approximation of living I've been doing. Today, I realized to what extent my ways of coping with saying goodbye involve forgetting. Trying to forget the way it felt, so that I can't compare it to the present; trying to forget that I even met him, that we ever interacted... which is horrible, and really sad. It's not that I actually succeed in the attempts to forget, but after all the goodbyes I've said in my life, why am I unable to look back and reminisce without the poignancy, the nostalgia becoming overwhelming? Why can't I just enjoy the re-hashing of scenes and sensations (insofar as much as possible) without wishing to not be in this moment (which is definitely something I want to avoid)?
With this goodbye, in particular, I have run the gamut (so to speak) of reactions: I've been angry, sad, hurt, and even relieved to some extent (the latter mostly being because I was having trouble focusing on studying, when I need as close to a 4.0 I can get to apply to med school-- so far, I'm at a 3.89, or something.) But today, (and the other day), when I heard from him spontaneously, when I was alerted to the fact that I'm still on his mind despite everything that's going down in a new and exciting place, I was struck. Struck by how much I miss him, by the very fact that I'm important, by how much I was holding back, by the strangeness of my mode of coping, and by how it seems so callous. No wonder I'm afraid of being forgotten, when this is the way I deal with things. I braced myself for a big reaction at the beginning, when I thought I had time to deal with it a little more... but now is when it's hitting me, when it's been three weeks or so. So I try to deal with studying for my tests and struggling with myself for control of anything, when in actuality all I really want to do right now is write and cry and sleep and draw and dream, and then maybe go dancing when I wake up.

This is not [my] year

(more Weepies. There may be a bit of an obsession going on there.)

Actually, this isn't a downer post, despite the title. (That just happens to be the song that's in my head right this second, which is often how my blog gets titled. It's kind of like providing you with my internal soundtrack.)

I don't actually have much of a point to this post, either. (I know, you must be thinking 'does she ever?') I just felt like I wanted to blog, as a release from studying for Physics all day (test tomorrow, whoopie! I'm still going to run before class, though. If I don't know it by now and all that jazz)

Yesterday I was meant to stay home and study while my parents went to someone's house for dinner. Instead, I went out with S, because I knew that if I stayed home I'd just end up eating and eating and eating as I had been all day and getting increasingly angry/frustrated at myself. So I went to immerse myself in some Atlanta queer culture and play with my newly-discovered (possibly dangerous) toy. By which I mean my attractiveness. Seriously, I knew I was pretty, but there are some very strong reactions that I am not used to at all. In MSR some woman was making her way across the dance floor and stopped right in front of me and said "oh, wow." 'Oh, wow?', I was thinking, since when did I garner a reaction like that? I remember going to straight clubs and thinking that I wasn't turning any heads at all (maybe I've written all this before. Sometimes I lose track. Bear with me if I have.) Excuse me, I'm just a bit amazed. I always thought I was ugly growing up, or just too chubby/fat for any prepubescent boys or girls to openly fancy me, at any rate. All this is a learning experience, and I think this might help me get over how shy I am with people I fancy.

Anyway. There was one girl I danced with that I wanted to get the number of, but didn't (she might have tried to find me later like she said, but I was outside for a bit... who knows?) and then another that I danced with who I did get the number of and also some kisses. Let me just say, I really love kisses. Maybe it's my oral fixation, but it's just... a good kiss really makes or breaks a lot. (and sometimes it's not worth the training. On the other hand, sometimes it really is.) There were a couple interesting moments from the night that I wanted to note(ok, more than a couple, but these are my choices):
One was when I smiled at someone going past me in the crowd at the burlesque show. As she went behind me, she ran her hand down my spine. Oh, so sexy.
Another was more just an observation of insecurity/staking of territory-- when I was dancing with SJ for the song he requested, Sy (no last name to make reference by initials, so this will have the suffice for the moment.) hovered around (not dancing), and then as the song seemed to end, swooped in to grab me from SJ. Kind of cute, kind of sad, and kind of creepy all at once. Made me feel a little like a commodity, which I most certainly did not like. I'm not sure the attention I got paid quite made up for that, either. I guess I should talk to Sy about not wanting to date seriously at the moment.
The last thing I wanted to note was when I was dancing with SJ he put his hand on my hips and pulled my belt loop toward him so I would be dancing on him, which I liked rather a lot. Maybe I was just majorly turned on by that point, but the fact remains that I found it rather sexy.
Oh, and one last thing-- of the people that approached me/ danced with me, they were smart. B, the girl I didn't get the number of, is studying for the MCAT too (to take it in July), and Sy is a math teacher. How refreshing, after meeting thick people on the pull at other times. (Now that I really think about it, though, how many times have I honestly been on the pull? Not all that many times. I have spent some time with people with not all that much up top, I must say-- predominantly, TG comes to mind.)

Of all of this, I want to try to remember that I am in control. I'm not going to string anyone along, and I'm not in a place to play games.

(Shit. And I should go over these equations one last time before beddy-byes.)