Monday, February 5. It's late. I'm on the phone with Jeff. I manage to finally blurt out what's wrong, why I'm so stressed, and what I think should be done. All I wanted was time off. Did I want to break up? No. But, he couldn't see any other way of taking time off. I didn't understand. Give me a month or two where I don't have to deal with a boyfriend. I still don't see why this is so hard. But, he said the only way to do this was to break it off. So we broke up. I called him back an hour later begging him to change his mind.

No.

I remind him of this. I begged him. He refused. So, in part, I felt that the crumbles could not all be laid at my feet.

I had a great week. I felt light as air. I had gotten what I wanted, albeit by means I would were not. I had some great times with my friends, studied well, and I was not stressed.

But, I could not stop thinking about him. I was so unsure of what to do. Do I forsake this happiness for something that fits? It's as if you've taken off a comforting blanket. You're used to it being there. It fits well against your skin. But, you're hot and it's getting a little uncomfortable. So, you do without the blanket, but your skin grows to miss the feel of the blanket. Do you enjoy the new cool feeling or do you do with the warmth for the old comfort of the blanket. Does that make any sense? Sometimes I take off a sweater because I'm warm, but my arms miss having the sweater around them. I don't think that makes sense, but when did I claim to have sense?

So, I put the sweater back on. I go back to Jeff. I don't know if it's right or it's just easy. In the words of the BNL "All my stuff's there anyway..." It's pretty rough trying to break up with someone you've lived with. But that's not the point. The point is that I tried to imagine my future without him and it didn't make sense. He makes some sense of me. And I still don't know if it was right or just easy. I just know that my hand fits perfectly in his. When he pets my nose, I am slightly less unwell. I sleep best when our feet are touching and my pillow smells like his shampoo. If I open my eyes and there he still is, I am lucky.

So, it might suck. Yeah, I could do with being single. But then, he wouldn't take me back (he has said he might not if we took the time off). So, I will do without somethings I need. And I will forget about all the schools that I really want to go to. I might have to go to Clemson and I might have to live in Anderson. I really hate Anderson. But I don't know what else to do, because where else can I find a pillow that smells like his shampoo? Where else can I go to sleep with my feet touching his?

And when I cry, I don't know what I'm crying over. If I am crying because I miss him or if I am crying for all the things I will miss because of him. But if I had those things, I would miss him.

And I will never travel to Europe as I would like. I will never live in Philly for a couple years, during grad school maybe. I want to live in a city, but he hates it. He will be unhappy in the city. So, I compromise. Now, I am the martyr. I cannot stand to see him unhappy. And letting him down would be my greatest unhappiness.