The Comfort of You

First two days of the last semester of classes down and only one more potentially challenging class left to conquer. As of this Friday, I'll have half of my observation hours completed with my cooperating teacher at BSHS which is good considering that this is only the first week of classes at UMKC and only the second at BSHS. Admittedly, I've been freaking out about completing the hours (60 hours for my field experience requirement) and I've probably been a little obsessive about it, but I figure with all the stress that this semester promises to bring I should get as much of it done and out of the way as soon as possible.

I love to eat ice. I chew on it constantly. I have a terrible (?) oral fixation. Just in case you were wondering...

At the moment, I have about a bajillion and one things running through my head. I usually spend this time of the evening talking to someone, but as that person is MIA tonite, I figured it's a good of a time as ever to put things down here. And anyway, I do like rereading these entries and laughing my ass off at some (most?) of the things I end up saying.

I've decided that my life is bigger than some of the problems I've been stressing myself out over as of late. If they're meant to work out, they will. And if they aren't, there's a plan for me somewhere. I just have to find and follow it. God has been gracious enough to continue to allow me to land on my feet.

I've realized (or, finally admitted to myself) that my relationship with Will has really made a lasting impact on my future relationships with other people. In recognizing this, I've also realized that I've spent a great deal of time, energy and effort on trying to date "good boys" to prove to myself that I'm 'ok' and can make something work out with a member of the opposite sex. A part of me really believes that our relationship was ended because of something I did wrong. Even though I sound silly saying it, in my head I still think that if I was good enough, if I was better, if I was prettier or more charming that Will would have chosen to be with me. If I was better, he would have thought I was super great and he wouldn't have been able to perpetrate the deceit in the way that he did. Something about it being all my fault. One thing that I will never forget about our final conversation was when Will thanked me for saving his marriage. Without our interlude, he wouldn't have realized the magnitude of his fidelity (or infidelity as the case was) and commitment. Watching "Father of the Bride" is not helping.

I just want to be in love.

There's the situation with the boy, the situation which is marked with an impossibly large question mark hovering over each conversation, encounter. When I ask myself if it matters, I decide that it doesn't. The feelings I have are not cheapened or lessened by a lack of definition. They simply exist in a circumstance that doesn't demand the boundaries of exclusivity. He and I have an understanding. I think that somewhere, there must be a place for us. Even a time. I try not to think of the bleak outlook that seems to be an inevitability. The hope of him is enough for me. What we share fills me up more than I ever imagined it could. Though I often want more, though I feel selfish, though I want to keep him and this forever and ever amen, I know that what is meant to be for us will be. I have full confidence in that. He is often times the only thing that I am sure about.

It surprises me a lot that I can be such a girl about so many things. Especially boys. And before I get sillier, I'll end this. Besides, it's midnite and for the first time in, well, over a year at least, I'm regulating a sleeping pattern. Yes, me!

I love you.

--

Arianne