Do-Over

So I tried to post a blog earlier, but the more I thought about what I wrote, the more it didn't sound like what I meant for it to, and then it was just about the only thing I could focus on in art history - well, that and the fact that the university does have a ceramics class and it started this semester and not next semester so that means one of my classmates was wrong, but I didn't speak up to correct him, and whew. Can we just stop for a minute?

What I had meant to say with that other post that is now in the Davy Jones' locker for blog posts is not really how I meant to come off about a certain thing that I have been doing a lot of thinking and rethinking about, no matter how hard I try and not think about that thing that I keep thinking about.

It's just ridiculous.

I mean, yes, I do think about it a lot and probably what would help me not think about that thing a lot would be an apology from someone who I'm not going to ask for an apology because I just want it to appear out of the goodness of his heart and his love for me. Ahem. Then when I walk by the freshmen Tower I can no longer cringe at the thought of the person who lives there and what happened during one of the most awful periods of my life this far.

Yes, it happened. No it's not going to happen again. But I still want some confirmation! I want something private and sincere, not in front of a lot of people. I want consolation so I can stop feeling like crap whenever I see this person in person. And does that make any sense at all?

I mean, you guys have really no idea what happened, or what event I'm talking about, but you can probably tell that I think about it a little too much. I don't want to let it affect me as much as it does, and I try to put on a brave face and make like it just doesn't matter, but all my brain parts and heart parts are telling me that it does matter a little bit and even though it's technically over it's not really over and really, but really I just don't want to put aside my feelings every time we run into her at the cafeteria.

But you see, with the previous post that is no longer posted, it came out all wrong. I want to point out what a good boyfriend I have. He loves me. He takes care of me. He surprised me yesterday by rubbing my dirty feet after I'd been standing on them for almost eight hours at work. You have to understand, he doesn't like feet and trying to get him to rub them is a downright chore, especially if it's pre-shower feet wearing the smell of all-day-in-the-shoe.

He sends me "i love you" texts. He goes out to eat with me. He does things sometimes that he doesn't really want to do because he knows it will make me happy if he goes along with my plans. I can't express to you how very much this boy means to me in all the ways that are important. Yes, we sometimes get angry at each other. Sometimes we argue. But usually we're only mad when both of us are either tired and/or hungry and our conflicts are easily resolved. I mean, we're human.

So I guess in conclusion to this post that seems to run amok in every which direction, I would like to say that Prince Charming is quite possibly the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, and I don't want to trade him for anything in the world and I'm glad that he loves me too.