I can’t stop thinking about him.

I can’t stop thinking about him. I think about him in between meals (when I’m not over come by nausea from how he makes me feel), when I’m sleeping, the minute I wake up, and every time I fucking blink. It is pathetic to think about someone with whom your most recent physical encounter was holding hands for less than a minute until he deemed it “wrong”. I won’t go into why. I write all this bullshit anonymously for this exact reason. I don’t have to waste pen ink, and I get it out all. If some other. 24-year-old girl gets a kick out of it, then I’ve done my part. Bold of me to write this from the bed of a man I’ve been dating for X amount of time. You can love someone while acknowledging they’re not right for you. You can pine after someone else while recognizing that you just crave some of their characteristics. I don’t even know how he might be in a relationship. I only know about his 7th grade relationship and a short-lived fling with a girl his friend fucked later on. That same friend told me I'm finally starting to look like a woman. and that pissed him off. I would like to know how he is in a relationship, but not yet. Not for years, as far as I’m concerned, if it were to happen, it would be too real and I can’t handle that right now. I don’t think he can either. I’m on a call right now for a project he and I were meant to do together. When he called to say he had to cancel and find his replacement, I wasn’t disappointed. I was actually delighted to find that I enjoy my work without him just as much as I do with him. That sentence is pathetic, but true. I’m moving to a new city, a city where he lives. As if that even fucking matters. But no matter what, I can’t stop thinking about him. I refuse to text or call him. Instead, I’ll write an entry about him on my anonymous blog, which is in its infancy on the internet. Six years can go by, and it can be four since you’ve fucked him, and you can feel like you barely know him still. But you can also come to terms with the fact that you want to get to know him more than anything you’ve wanted in years… dumb as fuck.

Moving.

I have my first interview tomorrow. I’m interviewing for positions in Los Angeles and leaving the town where I grew up again. I left for grad school, but now I’m really leaving. And the best part is I’m going to be surrounded by the kind of people who get it. Nathaniel and Michael get it, but no one else does. I find it so interesting that I spend an ounce of time in California and realize it’s where I’ve gotta be again. I hated it years ago when I was trapped at that catholic college, but now I’m 23 (almost 24) two degrees wiser, and ready to move the fuck on with my life. I have no advice to give on moving, even though I’ll have done it four times come August. The only interesting thing about moving is the anticipation leading up. It’s a feeling adjacent to starting a new school as a kid and wondering who will want to be your friend. It’s exciting and it is

Breaking up.

This one is fucking dumb. This one I don’t want to write. But I will, just gimme a minute.

Writing a dissertation.

I’m having a hard time with it. I haven’t touched it in days. As I write this, I just remembered I have a form due tomorrow and I haven't rewritten it. Fuck. Let me get back to you.