Don't struggle like that or I will only love you more ...

He posted his news to the entire FB universe several hours after texting me:

Holy Shit I actually got into Law School

I couldn't resist and reiterated my happiness for him:

Congratulations, always....good luck, this is a big endeavor!

Several other friends and colleagues of his chimed in, along with family members and what not...he replied back to everyone, of course:

thanx for the kind words everyone

***

I don't know what it is anymore...what I feel I'm drowning in...the wistful pleasure of waiting to see him and not knowing when that will be...the sharp, gnawing guilt of crushing on someone other than my boyfriend...or is it the quivering, glimmering hope that things will get better?...and still time rolls on, slow and torturous....if only it were quick and painless.

I haven't typed lines as emo as this since high school. Sheesh.

I will bide my time, I suppose. As things approach their deadlines, I will find the words to say to him (Edgar) all I feel...and find the apologies I can't remember to him (Dan) as well.

It would be wrong of anyone to think I am a bad person after reading this entire blog...I can honestly say everything else has gone well in my life...I have been a well-behaved child to my parents (for the most part), a loving friend who is always there for her buddies and a responsible, industrious employee to my company....even as a student, teachers adored me. Why couldn't I make my amorous life behave the same way? Why has this been so hard for me? And I wouldn't say it was EVERY SINGLE relationship that was bad...ask Paul, ask Julio, ask Rob, ask Alberto (well maybe not him), fuck you can even ask Edgar...ask them and they can tell you I was nice, courteous, genuine, attentive and just plain fun. I never tried to hurt any of them like I hurt Dan.

I don't know why things with Dan have been so different this time. These last two years have been suffocating at times. I could have stopped it...but I didn't. And that's what bothers me to end...what convinces me that I have rotten insides.

***

I comfort myself at night...on my walks during work at break...when I am alone and confused...I comfort myself with thoughts, shades, relics of memories of Edgar...from this past month, from this last visit...from every time I've been with him.

I see the way his mouth curves, the way his words slur a little when he's talking...he's got a slight lisp that you don't notice right away until you've been talking to him for a while...it's not supposed to be cute...but it is.

He makes references to history and tries to makes jokes...he compared the drive to my apartment as long and as arduous as the Donner Party's voyage to California. I laughed, I'll admit...I asked him if we'd start resorting to cannibalism. The fact that I got the reference surprised him..."You can't sneak that one past me, Cruz!" I said as we both laughed.

He looks so good in just jeans, a band T-shirt and low-top Cons (I wear those too!)...he says wearing band shirts makes him feel young...hah!

The scar above his left eye-brow...killer.

I got addicted to reading Brandon Kelly's blog. He's the bassist for the Lawrence Arms, Edgar's favorite band.

Ughhh...I want more. I want to like less superficial things about him...I want to be given the opportunity to see the good and the bad side of him. I want a chance to have things get messy, for us to jump out into the great unknown of relationships...to take this lust, this good shit, to the next level. I want to explore why we sound so good on paper and then actually try it out in the real world. I want to be with him, nice and truly.