2-3-00 (12:44 a.m.) I don't know that I really have much to say tonight, but I felt kind of bad leaving that as my last journal. Its a side of me I don't bring out very often, and I think I'm more comfortable with it staying that way. Maybe one day I won't be so protective of my disbalanced self, but who knows. I'm done with my tantrum throwing...It's time to move forward. Being none too bright, I plan to try going back there friday. I'll call first though this time, give her a chance to tell me to go to hell over the phone. Geez am I ever a pessimist? My insecurity is drawing up worst case scenarios, and I don't think that the part of me that hates busses is really adding a useful contribution...which pretty much leaves the part of me that has no idea what's going on. I really want to know what's going on, but do I really have a right to expect her to tell me? I can't make her tell me anything, so I'm not sure I should even try. I think what's important isn't finding out exactly what's going on, though that would make me feel better, regardless of what it was. The only good reason I can think for her not to want to tell me, is if was something I'd done, or more likely not done. I think then it'd be more important to tell me. I've asked her in the past, "If you ever had a problem/complaint with me, you'd tell me right?" and she said she would, but when you can't see around you, the mind is very good at theorizing what monsters are lurking in the shadows. But it's not really important what's lurking in the shadows. The question then becomes what IS important? My generic anser: "I don't know." I want to say that what's really important, is that she know there are people out there who care about her, and want her to be happy. Monday morning, I think I believed that. I've traded that for a more reserved philosophy, and now I think that what's really important is for her to face and deal with whatever it is that's causing her problems. Which is easy for me to say, not knowing what it is. I think I'm going to suggest she keep a journal, the cure all of the moment ; ). Keeping a journal, kind of allows you to let it all out, without actually letting anything out. Unless of course you're silly enough to post it on the web. I think I'll go find a little journal or something somewhere, there's bound to be a bookstore in Cameron Vilage or somewhere like that...maybe I can go after Discrete tomorrow. This is probably another dumb idea that'll backfire in my face, but I guess even that's better than doing nothing. One of Erin's many suggestions has been that I show Kate my journal...I'll probably do that too...though I hope she starts at the beginning. I really don't want her to read the one before this, and I'm not sure exactly why. Actually, yes I am. I like to think that I've matured beyond tantrums, and that I can channel my thoughts and emotions in useful productive, healthy ways (I sound like a shrink). It bugged me to cry on the bus. Here was this guy I'd never seen before, probably will never see again, who was having to drive all the way to raleigh, then all the way back to the bus station and then all the way back to raleigh where he lives...all the while driving on dangerously icy roads. So, he has all this to deal with, and then he has to deal with me crying. Looking at what I've just written, maybe Kate feels the same way. But how do you convince someone that what would make you feel really good is for them to cry on your shoulder...and give them a big hug. As a guy, my natural tendency is towards wanting to fix everything, but in this case I think I'd settle just for sitting with her and saying: "Yup, that really sucks....I'm sorry." And of course the all important hugs. I'm not sure what it is, but there's magic in hugs. A hug is someone saying: "I'm here, I care" I remember one of those nights when I was wandering around in a bad mood, probably because Kate was off on invites bowling with Daniel, or some other such silly thing that I spent time moping about for way back before we started going out. The point is, I was in a bad mood for some silly reason, and walking across campus in the dark as was my usual thing to do to try to think...and Daniel Chun is coming the other way across the lawn, and he gives me a big hug, then continues on his way. Even though he had no idea what was wrong, something about that human contact made me feel a lot better. Maybe that's why they say you're keeping someone at Arm's length, because if you let them any closer, you risk letting them know how you really feel. That scares most people. It scares me. Somebody jammed the lock on the AURICS lab...so I can't get in, to get any of my CDs or write my journals there. I feel like I've lost my home. I'm just glad it didn't happen during one of the times that I had my backpack and such in there. That would've been worse. The way it worked out, it just adds to my general feelings of insecurity. I hope someone fixes it soon, I don't like being homeless. Did you ever go to one of those parties where everyone brought a present, and then starting somewhere you would pick one, open it, and decide whether to keep it or switch with someone who'd already opened one? That always struck me as the meanest game ever. Here you have a 12 year old who's just opened up some little gift, and it's the greatest thing he's ever seen, and then the next kid switches with him, and he's left with a gadget you blow through to make a farting sound. Erin, trying to be helpful and slightly more optimistic than I, suggested that If Kate did tell me to go to hell and get out of her life, that there are probably other girls out there and all that. This game came to mind, 'cause I'm thinking: "I already have what I want, can I quit playing before someone takes it away from me?" It's a silly analogy I realize, but I'm a silly guy. It's an odd place to end a journal, but I think I've said all I came here to say.