I was cleaning my room and I found this

January 25, 2007

This stupid crush on this stupid girl who I don't even know drives me crazy. I really depress myself. I guess it has to be psychological. I keep noticing things she does that I do which makes me like her more but I have gone to school with her for three and a half years and this has never happened, so obviously I am crazy. If we really had so much in common I would have felt like this before.

My theory: she is sort of like me in some ways (well okay just the constant writing mostly) and maybe I wish I was her because she's kind of mean and she seems to cry or freak out about things all the time but she has a lot of friends and she has Mrs. M. who she is so close with. And I guess it upsets me because I don't have many friends and I sure don't have teachers fucking adopting me and and when I'm sad I just have to deal with it. I don't sit around emitting rays of sadness and making everyone within a mile radius feel bad and my stupid fake mom teacher has to come put her hand on my head because my brain can't take care of itself. (Can you tell I wish Mrs. M. was my fake mom? I really do. I think she's awesome but I didn't even like her until 11th grade and she's not my advisor etc. etc. You can't just make a person care about you by wanting them to and I know I have my own advisor who likes me a lot but I don't see her very much. So meanwhile I go to playwriting and try not to be an advisor thief. Everyone loves Mrs. M., she's like a celebrity so I don't have any right.) Anyway, I don't think ______ has any excuse to be sad. I guess she probably has something wrong with her so that's not fair of me.

well look. I have barely any friends but I do have some and some people have none. I am not bullied. My teachers are all nice to me and seem to like me. Some other person probably has a psychological crush on me and thinks I'm a moron for not being happier.

One thing though: SHE'S SUCH A GOOD WRITER. Fuck. Even though she has a million friends and doesn't like me even in that capacity etc. etc. it's really hard not to want to know her better when she unleashes one of her things. They're just so fucking sad and they make it seem like she's not a person but a big aching consciousness that understands people in some inside way. That understands the undersides of people. In fact it makes me feel bad that I am such a bad writer and can only write about nervous people after ten years. So maybe she deserves all this.

I have to pray a lot I guess. Even though this has only been around for a few weeks I can't imagine being without it. Which is REALLY WEIRD. I really might be going crazy.

February 2

I stopped being sick + she was out for a few days + Mrs. M. told me I was a good writer = my crush is in remission. I still like her but it's not so weird anymore. I AM SO RELIEVED.

later?

what I wanted to say was: just look at me. Just look at my hormones, just look at my nerves. Just looked at my love for you rushing out of me, my face like an explosion, my heart snap snap snapping like fingers with a fast song, my hands more like a little animal hidden away in an underground den because I jam them in my pockets all the time to keep from reaching out for you. My memory is not photographic but where you're concerned it's pretty damn close. I could take a test on you. I could say what you eat, what clothes you wear a lot, like I imagine you're so excited when your mom takes them out of the wash and you have to wear them right now, right today. I could talk about your hands, the sentences structures you favor, your nervous habits. And then oh snap extra credit, your posture, the way your face looks when you sing, the shiny sharpness of your voice onstage. I'd get a hundred on the you test, more than a hundred, the Paw of Perfection[1]. But it wouldn't matter. I don't have a penis so I'm disqualified[2]. It's like I didn't bring the right equipment to the race up the steep rocky cliffs. I can love you as much as I want but I'm wrong, it's just wrong, and I need to stop.

1. The Paw of Perfection is what my high school Latin teacher would give you if you did really well on a translation, because she was obsessed with her dog.
2. BWAAHAAHAHA

In conclusion, I can't decide if I'm glad I'm not this unintentionally hilarious anymore, or if I sort of miss it. I don't really have romantic feelings for anyone at this point. I think this partly comes from having a really specific type, and partly as I've gotten better at functioning I feel things less strongly. Although, maybe this is just me realizing that because my type is so specific, and because most people are straight, it's more practical not to have these feelings, and just shutting them down. When I really think about it, it's hard to imagine that I'll ever have a relationship.