And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

Oh, the many joys that flossing brings...

Sometime last night I had decided to stop working and was doodling tattoo ideas when there was a knock on the door. Theo was hiding around the corner, and I had my contacts out, so when he popped into sight it scared me half to death, but in a good way. You know how it is. His nipples were flashing. He acted like nothing was wrong at first, and told me that now I know how guys feel when they try to talk to girls. (In reality, he DID have flashing lights pinned to his shirt.) Theo complimented my watch, so I made him listen to it to show him it was working. We laughed. Joe walked by with some girl in the middle of our conversation, and I got a bit tense, but remarkably it didn't ruin everything, and Theo even gave me a hug goodnight. I was so delighted with how well things went that I came inside and scribbled ridiculous notes all over my tattoo doodling page. I am such a junior high-schooler. I knew it at the time, too, but I couldn't resist. I would have just danced around and made happy noises, but Sierra was sleeping. I do realize also that I am 22 and should maybe have better control over my emotions, what one might call "maturity." But when you've got everything riding on a relationship, I mean, when the standing of a relationship means so much, it's really not worth it to try to hold everything in. I'm not expecting a fairy tale, or anything. I mean, I can be realistic. I just want us to be okay again. To prove to myself that I didn't do irreversible damage in a flight of stupidity and loneliness.

I had what Sierra calls "monkey mind" after that, and couldn't get to sleep until after 4:00.

Today, this evening, I think Theo may have seen my notes on my desk, and that may have been confusing--we'll just assume that he wasn't paying that much attention. If he was, I probably look like an idiot. So what else is new.

I was offline all day working on comps (which I still am doing, hooray for multi-tasking, hopefully enough to have some free time tomorrow) but I popped on for a minute just a little while ago. Theo's away message said, "You have no idea what it's like to be around that fucking son of a bitch." Granted, I may be wrong, but I have a likely idea of who he meant. I wish I could do something, but it's not like I'm really in a position to console anybody. Even if I do know how they feel. The message later changed to "Who love too much, hate in the like extreme..." which could be seen as reassuring. It's strange how sometimes Theo and I seem to be communicating more through away messages than in person, though I suppose that's easier. At least we didn't plan it that way.

I'm sure if anyone is actually reading this they're getting pretty sick of this blather. And there's a possibility that Theo is reading it too, which, well, would reveal a lot about what I'm not saying to him, but I guess really none of it is a secret. Where else am I going to put all of this? Eventually I'll write about something else. But for now there is only room for two men in my mind, and one of them, a certain Prosper Mérimée, is looking a bit sad and neglected, so I'd best get back to it.

Every time I read this girl's diary I get all sentimental and think about the girlfriends I had when I was younger. "I love you rosa jane .. I miss you a little, I guess you could say, a little too much, a little too often, a little more everyday." This kind of passion was so easy between friends back then, but now it's like it's taboo, and I find that so sad. I think we could all use a little bit of that kind of devotion.

The ups and downs of a Russian childhood at 11:37 p.m.