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written on 04 Nov
at 0121 hrs

I am a waste of space. Especially on the weekends. But I'm okay with it.

BJ and I went to dinner tonight. It's a good thing we had alcohol. Although I can definitely count on one hand the number of words we said while we ate. He keeps saying we need to spend time apart, and I guess I'm fighting that purely because I don't want to lose him somewhere down the line.
I was talking to Ma last night and crying because even though I know it's okay for things to never be the same as they were, it still sucks. It sucks that he might never come back over to our house and let the dogs wake him up at 0600. It all sucks.

I also got in a little tiff with one of my friends tonight. I thought she was being ungrateful, and she thought I was being a loudmouth. Needless to say, they didn't call to see if I wanted to go to the movies with them. That's fine.

I'm jumping around too much here.

I came home from dinner with Beej and came upstairs and went to sleep. Changed clothes first, 'cuz I cannot sleep in jeans. BJ left to go play with his boyfriends and on his way out said, "If you want to watch Saturday Night Live in my room, you can." At that point, I think I would rather have chewed my toes off.
I sent Ben a message saying I'd be in for the rest of the night, if he wanted to talk, but as I laid down I realized I didn't want to talk. My cell phone rang twice, and I didn't answer. When I woke up this morning at 0100, I had two messages.

Noah called.

I wanted to cry. How is it that I could miss his calls? I laughed at his smart alecky messages, and almost cried 'cuz he was leaving them from 8,000 miles away.

I think of how (relatively) soon Noah will be home and I wonder if I'll ever see him again. I'll be sad if I don't, but for different reasons now. Fifteen months ago when I wiped tears away as I turned around and refused to watch him leave, I cried because I loved him so much I couldn't imagine never seeing him again. And now I cry because he's one of the most amazing people I've ever met...and if I never again get to sit on high school bleachers in a lightning storm with him, I'll be sad.
I'm not in love with him anymore. (That's the first time I've ever really admitted that.) But I still pray there's a day when I can wrap my arms around him, tell him I love and admire him and let some tears fall. For him, for me and for who we used to be.

BJ's boyfriends were just outside. And as I watched them stroll back to their building, I realized how perfect their friendship is. How perfectly they compliment each other.

Byron is probably the loudest person I have ever heard. I don't think he even understands the idea of quiet. He has a laugh that everybody just has to smile at. He's the most honest person I've ever met, and has never let a question he has go unasked. (What's in a daquiri? What's in a virgin daquiri? Oh.) What you see is what you get with Byron, and even though I love to hate him, I can appreciate that about him.
Whereas Patrick is the boy everybody loves. The pretty boy with a baby face. Quiet and intelligent and funny. Kick your ass at college football anything, he will. There's a very deep side to Patrick that I've only ever seen once. He has colorings that we girls have given him hanging on his wall beside his posters of jocks and beautiful women. And that is the essential Pretty Pat.
And there isn't one of them without the other, even in thought. They just are Pat and Byron.
I don't think there are two more recognized faces on our campus. And sometimes I forget that BJ's the other half of their third, like Plis is the other half of me and Man's.

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