All about amour

I am having the worst time with the weather. You don't even know. The humidity level is about 80% and it's horrible! I feel like I'm being bathed in ectoplasm every time I step outside. How do people manage it here? Maybe that's why everyone's so rude all the time; they just can't handle the horror of the weather. It's like that one movie, "The Day After Tomorrow," where the weather goes crazy and kills everyone except the lucky protagonist and his doting girlfriend (actually, I don't know if they survive either; I never finished watching it). But man, is it going to be like this from now on? I don't know if I can handle this! It was bad enough durin, g the summer when the heat and humidity were worse than all the fury of the Falkan island crisis, but at least then I had the hope of a return to normalcy with the advent of autumn! Now I have not that hope. And man, that sure is a sad and depressing way to live! I always scoffed at people who were so easily affected by their environments, and I looked with withering scorn on the girl who had to transfer from MIT because of the depressing nature of her surroundings, but now I think I'm beginning to understand. Who could endure three more years of this? Or even two, if I get to graduate early? I'm bitterly miserable, and it hasn't even started snowing yet. Life is a vale of tears, and I won't let anyone tell me different.
Oh, here's another reason why life is a veritable misery to all who live it! Melissa has coerced me into agreeing to go to church with her this evening. Of course I don't mind going to church; I do it myself, but I really, really, really don't want to go with her. For one thing, these services take hours, and I don't want to be stuck away from campus on a weeknight until midnight. It's not safe, and what's more, I need to study. I have three midterms next week, and I need to do well so I can keep my good grades. These exams are worth a lot, you know? I already got a B on a political science quiz last week; I really can't keep going like this. I'll fail everything. So, I'm sorry, but I don't think it's sensible to ask me to sit there "enjoying" love and fellowship with people who likely don't want to enjoy these things with me while the clock to my future ticks away. I don't have a problem with just going to a church service, I think that would be nice, actually, but there's not going to be any way for me to get away afterwards. Unless I know someone really well, I never feel comfortable trying to bum a ride, and these people are all going to be strangers. Then, too, I don't want to put a cramp in Melissa's style. But what about me, though? Darn it! Why do I have to do this? I'm never going to go again.
I feel like it's going to be really awkward too. People are weird here. They might not mean to do it, but even if they're very nice, they have a sort of insider mentality, so that if you're not one of them, you can never hope to be. It's like white-think, I guess. And I'm not being ridiculous; the other non-white people or non-local people I've met feel that way too (to some extent; I'm worse than most). Ugh. I'm just going to have to sit there, smiling and nodding and acting like I'm not dying to leave, and not saying a word of my own. I hate situations like this! I feel like if I were replaced by a doll, like in Coppelia, it really wouldn't make a difference to the world. That's all I am, you know? I'm like a cute, nicely-dressed, placeholder. This is an issue for me, actually, I've built up quite a complex about it over the years. And it's not just friends or acquaintances or strangers who do it, either. It's everyone. Usually, when I date a guy, he acts like I'm a living sex doll, and puts me on display in front of his friends, and they all act like I'm an object. Now that I think of it, I think most of the guys I've dated have thought of me as an object. You could replace me with a sexy lamp, and it wouldn't make a difference. It's really very irritating, don't you know. That's one of the reasons I like Austin so much! He doesn't think of me that way; sure, he tells me I'm beautiful and cute and all that, but he treats me like a complete person, and he makes sure his friends do the same. It's so wonderful to know that he likes me not because I'm pretty (though I'm sure that helps), but because he likes me as a whole! I know I was going on about how I wasn't sure of this before, but now I'm convinced (at least mostly convinced) that it's the case. I'm so lucky to have him! I can't believe it sometimes, and I have to remind myself that my life is really happening this way, and it's so wonderful.
All righty, I know I talk about him way too much, but let's take a little detour and discuss my lovely boyfriend, shall we? Consider this fair warning: I'm about to go deep into pre-religious John Donne land, and it'll be a very unpleasant journey for everyone but me, I'm sure. So! On Monday, Melissa was staying the night at church (another reason for my trepidation tonight, but that's neither here nor there), and I had the room to myself. So I studied, and did homework, and watched Supernatural, and ate dinner (not very much, sadly), and sang a lot (to the undoubted distress of my neighbors), and then after I'd showered and brushed my teeth and all that, I talked to my baby on the phone for like three hours. It was the best. You know, I usually hate talking on the phone; I prefer texting or Skype or email or whatever, but I love talking to him. Just hearing his voice makes me feel all happy; I think I could listen to him talk for days and still get butterflies. And it's never awkward like it is with other people sometimes. I know we used to be really awkward together, but that's a thing of the past! I feel so comfortable and happy when I'm talking to him, I only wish we could talk in person. But so anyway, we talked about our various emotional problems, cuz that's what people do when they get close, I guess, and mind you, I'm not happy that we're both so messed up, but I am happy that we got to talk about it and find out more about each other. I half couldn't believe I was sharing so much personal stuff about myself, since I never talk about these things with anyone (I don't even put them on here or in my diary), but it felt okay to do so. I trust him, and that's saying quite a lot for me. I wanted to keep talking to him forever, but it was five in the morning and we both had class the next day, and we're sensible underneath our frivolous exteriors, so we eventually had to hang up. Right before we did, he asked me when it was appropriate to say "I love you," and I told him that I thought whenever it seemed right to say something, one should say it (or something of that nature). So he did. And I squeaked and blushed and couldn't say anything for a couple seconds, and then I said it back, and was so flustered that I hung up immediately after. But he didn't mind, so it's okay. But yeah! I can't believe it either– I actually love someone in a romantic way? I thought I would never do that! I know we've been dating and all, but I didn't know he actually loved me, and I didn't want to admit that I actually loved him. But I do, and he does, and it's the most wonderful feeling in the world. Don't get me wrong, I haven't become a sentimentalist (I hope), and I still maintain that love is transient and against natural laws and all that, but at the same time, I feel like there's a sort of golden glow in me, and no matter what I do, I can't ignore it. That was the weirdest way of putting things, I can't even. What is wrong with me? I still feel all tingly whenever he says it, and I can't say it (or even type it) myself without blushing and grinning like an idiot. I don't know, is that normal? Do normal people find it easy to talk about their feelings in this way? I kind of wish I did. But then again, if I don't, maybe it means it's more real! It really is real, though. I've never been in love with anyone I've dated, ever. I know that sounds terrible, and I suppose it is, really, but there it is. I suppose I did have genuine feelings for Justin, but they didn't compare in any way to what I'm feeling now. It was a crush and nothing more. Now, I do love Francisco (although we didn't really date, strictly speaking), but that's in a purely platonic way. I admit that I've always had a little crush on Roger too, but it's more that I respect and admire him and think of him as a good friend than anything else. I guess what I'm trying to say is that up till now, I've felt love in raindrops, when it's actually a hurricane. Do I sound like Moliere's Celimene? I suppose I do. That's okay. I like her. I really sympathize with her too. But yeah! So, Celimene-esque or not, I really think I'm in up to my eyes this time. I've never wanted to spend time with anyone so much, and I've never wanted to talk about anyone so frequently! It's weird being this in love with someone! I honestly thought I was going to spend my life alone, or in relationships with guys for whom I felt nothing, and now that's all gone. He's so different from all my other male companions (both my flings and my long-term ones). As I said before, he thinks of me as an actual person, not just a hot body, and he makes me feel loved, which no one's ever done (that sounds sad, but you know what I mean, so it's not). He's not ashamed of me, and he doesn't even hit on other girls, although they're always hitting on him because he's so gorgeous. He rebuffs their advances, but he does have female friends, and I actually like that he does. I feel like, if someone's not mature enough to have friends of another gender, he's not mature enough to date, because it means that he thinks of women (or etcetera) as objects, and nothing more. This proves that he knows girls are people, and syllogistically, it means he thinks I'm a person too. So there! That was a rather egotistical ending to the argument, but there it is. Even though we can't see each other in person, we talk every night, on Skype, or on the phone, and we text through the day. I don't want it to seem like we're co-dependent or anything; we both have lives, and if one of us doesn't text back for a few hours, that's perfectly fine and understandable. It's just amazing that we talk so much and don't get tired of it! I get bored easily, I admit it, and a lot of guys make me want to curl up in a corner and cry for awhile because they evince such rapid declination in the intelligence of the human race, but not Austin. I never get tired of talking to him. He's smart, he's actually smart, and what's more, he doesn't make everything about romance! Sure, he tells me sweet things often (which I actually really like), but he never gets lewd, and he never asks me for inappropriate pictures, which most other guys do. And he doesn't try to sext me or anything either. We talk about everything, and sometimes it comes to love, and sometimes it doesn't, and it's always perfect. He makes me so incredibly happy, and I can't wait to go home and see him again!
All righty, that was long and rambling and thoroughly unnecessary, but I had to get it out there. I'll probably return to the subject too. I'm the most annoying writer in the world, I know, it's like when you're watching a nice episode of Supernatural, and you just want them to take care of the problem already, but all you see is Sam getting busy with whichever doomed female lead is headlining at the time. I will never be a writer, though, so it's okay.
I wonder what time Melissa and I were supposed to go to church. I'm still in the library, see, and it's almost 7:30. I hope she'll text me with the details, but I'm not sure if she forgot or what. Should I text her? I really don't want to go! But then what if she thinks I hate her and gets depressed? Ugh. I'll just tell her I was cramming hard for my political science midterm, since that's the soonest, and I really am going to cram for it after I leave, and then she'll feel guilty about making me go, and won't invite me anymore. Yeah! That's the spirit! Okay, but I really am going to go study now. Bye!