Today in my lie of a home.

Hello. I sit in the dark of “my living room” thinking over the possibilities for the rest of my day and week. God, that’s boring. I am afraid I cannot love. I feel that the only feelings I can possess are sadness, interest, and infatuation. Something inside me yearns to be a player on the field again. And naturally these feelings make me wonder if I really do like girls. But yes, of course I do. Why must I try to define myself? Today my girlfriend blurted “why do you always have to analyze everything?!” after my many questions about her interest in football that I cannot understand.  Fine. My response was “I thought that you liked that I am a thinker?” “I do, just not during the last two minutes during a (some play/field position that I cannot remember now)” Oh. So I am inconsiderate and I have tunnel vision. We haven’t gone a day in the last few weeks without a fight like this. I don’t know if I want to do it anymore. I must confess that part of me wants to stay with her to prove to my parents that I actually am gay. The other part of me wants to strive through this relationship because I know that she is the best thing that has ever come into my life. I don’t feel at home here. This town is too small and there are too many self-centered college students. I want to go to a college where I will meet crazy, open people. Not druggies, but not prudes either. I want to go to the place where there are only who are actively involved in society, not just in possession of good intentions. Fuck. I want to change the world myself. Always have. Gay marriage. AIDS education. Poverty/hunger relief in Africa. I want to truly be selfless. But it feels like the only real way to attain such an attribute is through complete seclusion and without ties. Must I be single the rest of my life? Possibly. Am I happy now? No. Why? I cannot find a job even though I would rather not have one anyway. But I am out of money. I dropped my blackberry in the toilet a few days ago. Luckily, it has almost completely recovered. Suicide crosses my mind. I know. What a little emo gay girl. But it’s serious for me. I know, you’ve heard THAT before. Okay. I won’t defend myself. I don’t need to because I cannot kill myself and save the world at the same time. Anyway, I am unhappy because I feel as though I have no real home. I feel unaccepted by everyone in some way. This is a reasonable complaint only because I feel that I am accepting of most people, and every part of those people. I never wanted a home before now. Not sure what happened. Next time I’ll tell the story about my Jersey friend breaking her head open… that was a distinguishable moment in this summer from hell. I know that some day I could be happy. I’m not sure what that will take. Right now I need order, my mom, my dad, and the close friends whom I have not met yet. College is not like I thought it would be.

P.S. I discovered I can ejaculate. A lot.