It's never too late.

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

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 M�rim�e, 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.