Sinister: My roommate thought she was making a joke but she made me write this monstrously long thing

[ArtsyDeco at xxx.com]

yeah, and the fake british accent was real cute too.  Ugh.
Do I cry myself to sleep?  Sometimes, though I try not to.  I cried today because he was too busy to talk to me.  Not that he didn't want to.  Neither of us wants to slight our friends for each other, or annoy people while we're on the phone.  I just needed him then and knew it would be best to wait.  He's complained of missing me more than I've done, though I find myself becoming much more vocal on that subject.  I just ran through pouring rain to get hot chocolate.  I got two cups of the stuff.  I thought it would make me feel better.  I'm enjoying them but I'm not sure I feel better.  I'm thinking of how much I hated running through the rain, but how I would walk slowly through it with him and not mind, not even notice.  We don't just hold hands when we walk together; we hold each other, both of us more content the closer we are.  I keep thinking of the time when we were in his computer room and he didn't want me to sit on a separate chair.  He said he wasn't as happy if we!
 weren't together.  Maybe it's a symptom of a long distance relationship, but I think it's more than that.  When we're together things that usually bother me don't seem to matter.  Today he told me that the bad music his friends were playing stopped when he talked to me.  Not that they turned it off, he just didn't notice.  He does the same thing to me.  Everything is better when he's with me, even if it is just on the phone or online, but especially when we're physically together.  The bad things aren't so bad.  I can tolerate crappy music more.  I don't mind walking in the rain.  I can be more patient.  The good things are even better.  Good music means more.  TV shows and movies are better.  I'm better.  If it's cheesy to say that to me the safest place in the world is in his arms, then call me sharp cheddar (though in most cases I prefer mozzarella.)  I lost any sense of a house being home when I met him.  Home is where he is.  With him is where I feel truly comfortable, i!
nstantly the moment we're together.  My mother felt she had to m
ake sure that I knew that I could have been happy with other people.  I realize chances are I would have met someone here at college and had a relationship that made me happy if I had never met him.  I'm so glad I did meet him because no one has ever understood me like he does, not family, friends, anyone.  I seriously doubt anyone else could.  There's no one else like him.  To think before I met him I thought I wasn't a lucky person.  I'm beginning to think I have to move to England right away.  I'm realizing what is really important to me.

Thank you for giving me a forum to empty my brain into.  I had to write this before I could even think about writing the essay on tragedy that is due tomorrow.

On a completely unrelated note:  there should be a Boston picnic if I am not the only person in the area.  I think it would be fun to have it in the aquarium.  But that's probably just me.  I adore aquariums.

I apologize for my lack of paragraphication.  I'm incapable of it when I just write what I'm thinking.

Kara Jean Daria Brielmann*
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