I'm depressed.

I think John-Boy is too.

I don't know for certain sure on him... but I do for me.

I miss him so much... and I don't know what to do right now. I can't talk to him, I can't write him a letter, and there's only so many ICQ messages I can send him without feeling really stupid about it.

So I keep pouring out my heart and soul to this journal, which probably not very many people read, and get lonelier and lonelier... and end up going upstairs (or maybe not) and crying. Which doesn't help anybody at all.

If I hadn't gone to Greg's party yesterday... I might have gotten a hold of Cassie, and then I might have been able to go to fighter practice in Norman today... and I might have seen him. God, I wish I'd gotten to see him... or even Shawn, if Shawn'd seen him. I've already gone over this. Nothing's changed. I'm not going to keep going.

If I'd finished the stupid essay yesterday, then I could have gone up to Manhattan with Rachel, Greg, and Elizabeth, and distracted myself from worrying about him. Or being all maudlin and all the rest of it. But I didn't, and I still haven't... I'm at 290 words without my name, and it's supposed to be 300 to 500. Dad wants me to write a paragraph about each of the five things I've wanted to be "when I grow up" to fill it out and make it actually worth something.

I still don't really care. I probably will in a little bit, because I don't really have anything else to do.

But instead of finishing it, and instead of being allowed to finish it in the car while I was with people who actually write a lot and hope to write for a living or at least to supplement their living, I get to sit here at the computer and ignore it and trick Dad into thinking that maybe I'm writing about it, as long as he doesn't notice that I'm actually typing a lot instead of with large pauses while I try to think of what to write.

That's a really long sentence, too. It'd probably piss of the Word paperclip. As if I care.

I just really need to sit and cry with somebody who loves me and doesn't dislike Lenny, and is bigger than me so that they can hold me and make me feel safe. And despite the fact that I know that's what I need, I can't get it, because I have to write this scholarship and nobody around here fits the bill.

Lenny would, but if I had him in arm's reach, I wouldn't need to cry about missing him. And Greg might, but he's in a car going north. And I don't know how he'd react anyway. Justin might, but I don't know... and I haven't seen him in three weeks anyway, and I still can't even remember his last name. Louie would probably help. He's good about knowing how sometimes, even if you don't need it, you need a hug. And Buster'd probably be good for a hug at least. But they're all down in Norman, so it doesn't help me at all.

The only person who'd be at all likely to give me a hug in the next day or so (other than Greg once he gets back) is Dad, and he doesn't really like Lenny, and he wants me to finish this essay. So I don't think I'm going to get to do the whole spend-a-few-hours-crying-and-being-held-because-I-miss-him-so-much bit.

...........................

Gods, sometimes I can't stand Dad. He just came in here and asked me how I'm doing, and I told him that I'm upset and depressed and distracting myself (which I am) and he got all pissy about it and told me "Fine. I quit. Go ahead and do the same, you suck, and you can have thousands of dollars of debt if you feel like it, I don't care." Not in so many words. But that's what he said.

And people say that my parents are all cool and shit... No. They're not. They're controlling, and domineering, and they don't like opinions or lifestyles any different from those they hold so dear. Look at how they turned on Lenny when they realized that he'd been living a "life of sin" (i.e., happiness of a sort, but not so upper-middle-class as they are).

........................

I wonder if he feels the same way... about me, I mean, not about them. I don't really care how they feel about him, at this point. Because while they may be in control of my life right now, they won't always, and he makes me a hell of a lot happier than they do.

He said he didn't want to string me along. I'm not worried that if he leaves me here and goes away, I'll get over him and not ever think of him again... but I am worried that me might do that, and that's why he said that.

I never told him that he was my first at everything. I'd never even had a boyfriend before him. No kisses, no hand holding, nothing.

Kind of like in "By The Sword", when Kero remembers that Shallan had always said that "The Ice Queen would fall one day, and when she fell, she'd fall hard." I've been very careful about romance and all that stuff. I didn't want to end up being stupid and giving the goods away like I'm going out of business, or anything like that... And this means that I spent enough time around somebody to make sure I could be friends with them before I decided whether or not I could be more than friends with them. And in so doing, for most of them, I realized that I wouldn't want to be more than friends. And others, I realized I wouldn't even want to be friends, let alone anything else.

With Lenny, it was sort of different. First, he was just what my image of Prince Charming (yeah, go ahead and laugh, I will too) said: he was tall, with dark hair, and green eyes, and really cute, at least to me. And he was funny. And he seemed to like me, too, which was really surprising. And after talking to him for two and a half hours, the fact that he was nearly eight years older than me, and smoked, didn't matter. I actually gave him my phone number, just because I liked him and he was friends with Shawn, and I sort of knew Shawn, but I trusted Nana and she trusted Shawn, and Shawn trusted Lenny... and that was enough, because I liked him.

And so we talked, and I really liked him, and he and I agreed on so many things. It seemed as though I'd known him for years. It still does.

And although I hate to risk making myself look really stupid and foolish and lovesick about this, it really hurts to have him gone... and I remember, around Thanksgiving, talking to him on the phone and actually crying because I wasn't going to see him for two whole weeks, which is nothing compared to this... and it's almost enough to make me believe in soulbonds or love at first sight...

God, I'm such a pity party, all in my own self...

Anyway, it's now 6:10 because I was doing other stuff while I wrote this, and then Dad talked to me for like an hour while I felt like hell.

He's actually managed to convince me that I'm right in thinking that the essay is a load of shit, and he'll support me in _not_ doing it. Which I'll probably need, when Mom finds out... >.<

So I guess I'll shut up now and all. You're probably sick of my whining already, aren't you?