Straight No Chaser

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aaron wants to go back to school (i'm really excited for him). i kind of want the exact opposite. i see that ever-growing pile of clean laundry, watch it get taller and taller, reaching for the ceiling, and i absolutely panic.

last night's fight was about something minor and nitpicky, a regressive thing that always happens when i'm anxious about the coming transition. he called around twelve, which is unusual enough--usually it's more like two, or even three--and said he had two stops to make before bedtime (jordan and then sean/treesje), but that he had a few minutes to talk and he wanted to use them. i said, hesitantly, "all right," and proceeded to ask him about his day, to tell him about mine.

he got six beeps, and clicked over for each one. i counted. which is okay, it's his phone and midnight is still really primetime for him; he gets more done in the hours after midnight than he does in the hours around noon. but, spoiled brat that i am, it was not my ideal to try to hold a conversation in the thirty-second periods between clicks. so i told him to have a good evening and call me back before he went to bed, if there was time; if not, i said i'd just call him back at the same time tonight.

he got really sulky. i guess that sounded like an accusation, which it wasn't. i was just being practical. there's no reason to force a conversation when he's that clearly distracted, and when i know he's got somewhere else to go afterward, there is that added danger--that i'll get deeply into whatever i'm talking about, maybe start...emoting, somehow or other, and then have to deal with an abrupt termination. added up, i probably lost a good three hundred hours of sleep that way, sophomore year. i do not function well with things hanging over my head, less so when they are negative things.

so we didn't talk, he didn't call back (i figured he'd spend the night at sean and treesje's, and in fact suggested it, and he did), and he was nasty when i called to try to make amends this afternoon.

so if i hop back on here to update again in six or seven hours, you'll know why.

i'm scared to go back to school. not because of him. all things considered, i'm actually more optimistic about our relationship than i've ever been. i'm looking forward to firming up some things he wanted to leave loose before, to going a little bit more public with our level of intimacy, to supporting him when he runs for student body president (his big goal for second semester), and to, like, kissing him a lot. it's going to be totally fine, we're going to be totally fine, even with little stains like this one splattering around the week before.

i am deathly afraid that i'm going to get this degree and then shrivel up into a resource-draining ball of counterproductivity. i'm afraid of turning from a potential failure into a confirmed one, and of disappointing a pair of parents who really, really tried. i'm afraid i won't be like them--married within five years, bringing in six-figure incomes soon after. i'm afraid i'm going to give up trying to be perfect, give up trying to impress people with my extensive knowledge base and fluid intelligence, that i'm going to meet someone who wants me to be brilliant when all i am is--

mom is screaming about dinner. to be (dis)continued. up next: movie reviews! joy and rapture! see yalls after dinner!!!!

fucking god damn.