thought it was about time

...that I posted again.

Let's see. Of all the things there is to talk about, the things I need to talk about, I can't. Not just because this is not the place for them, but also because I don't even know the words to express them. Some would say my lexicon is not equipped to talk about these things, if anything at all.

So, things have been going well. I've been working, doing schoolwork, and watching Queer as Folk with my lover. I wish for a friend almost every time I make a wish, and I'm believing less and less in wishes.

This is not to say I have time for a friend, nor that I have the energy. My primary job is school, and I couldn't be happier about that. I like doing my work, and my spare time is spent in Jen's room or in her arms, and those places are precisely where I want to be when I'm trying to relax. Or anytime for that matter.

Now, I'm working on a research paper while old movies play in the background. Jen is in a class making a chap book, but I can't help but wish she was here with me. It's completely selfish and fairly insecure for me to feel this way, but what can I do? I'm in love. It's a love that my extended family can't know about since I'm not even near the sidewalk, much less the road, to acceptance from them. I'm stuck in the grass listening to my cousin tell me that she's in love, engaged, and getting married.

(In the absence of her mother, I said, "You know, I'm in love, too." She told me how her mom is "a little weird about it," because she was raised Southern Baptist. It's funny that religion comes before relatives. Even though it's reversed alphabetical order.)

School is good, stressful and crazy, but good.

Work is getting busier and busier since it's the holiday season. I've already heard all the Christmas music I care for and it's not even Thanksgiving yet.

Our relationship is in a good place. I've been trying to do nice things and be a good girlfriend, providing for her needs and trying to keep her content. Happiness is probably impossible, but the ability to be content, I think I can provide. Somehow it doesn't feel like enough.

I have less and less time to spend with Jen, and she'll be leaving me after next semester. There are wonderful things in her future, and I know she'll be fantastic, but we'll both be up Shit Creek when we're apart. We've become so accustomed to being together. It feels good, but it's unsettling, since, soon enough, we'll both be unsteady and shaking in the middle of summer. Or maybe I'll be the only one who's shaking. Maybe that's the best.

To leave on a good note, here we go.
On the Golden Girls show, I love the way Bea Arthur leaves a room.

More later or sooner. Whichever comes last.