I wanna create something. Video game, novel, comic book, anything.
Also, my self-esteem is so far in the gutter that my mom's apparently going to start giving me morning pep talks and lessons on non-extrapolation. Funny how my ability to draw broad connections is so helpful on the academic stage, but bad news for my feelings of self-worth.
I don't know how this happened, really. I used to have so much self-confidence. Well, no... I've felt undeserving of praise since kindergarten (I used to hit myself when they told us to give ourselves a pat on the back, haha), but more and more I feel that something has changed. I don't know what, though.
I've also been thinking about Rosewood a lot, recently. I think it's because this time of year was really the last big block of time we spent together. This was when he told me he wasn't sure if he saw me as a friend or a sister or a girlfriend, and that I was emotionally 7. It's been a long time, almost two years. They've really just flown past like they weren't there. But since then, it's been hard to look forward to anything at all. It's been hard to approach people, too.
I kind of hate myself for missing him. At the same time, I don't think I could look at his face. I'd be too ashamed of myself, and asking: "am I good enough for you this time?"
What have I done in these past two years? Almost nothing, it seems. I've hardly been living.
I keep on thinking stupid things like "when was the last time I let anyone touch my face?" and "when was the last time I went to a party?" Hey, here's a hint: more than two years.
It's harder, because all these silly things lined up that might make those of us who are prone to apophenia think "ah, it's fate." I dreamed about someone who looked like him for years before I met him... I saw a little writeup on him my first day in high school, one article in a little booklet, and thought "Oh, I really wish I could know this interesting, handsome person," sitting there and rereading the article again ... He was the first person who taught me any real mathematics at all. He was also the first person to voice the suspicion that I was a bit mentally screwy in an understandable way, rather than just calling me dirty or a freak. We had an understanding about things... I didn't feel like I had to teach him who I was. He knew already. Not in a evil, all-swallowing way, but in the sense that our minds ran on similar tracks.
Sorry for being all mushy. It's one of those times when I start thinking about these sort of things. You know... Christmas Miracles, as seen on bad late-night television. I need to go talk to my bro in the math department so that we can chatter about our crushes on unattainable men.
And hey, if you're reading this, I hope everything's going okay and that we'll meet again--if the right time arrives.