The time between meeting and finally leaving is sometimes called falling in love.

It's ok to be broken.

During the mock interview, I became acutely aware of the joy of the present. I am not applying for summer jobs, so that doesn't loom on my mind. Although I really should get on looking for a practicum position. Anyhow, summers, articles, big firms, small firms... it's ok. My future's bright. Even the Naga medicine man told me so. But in all, I felt a confidence descend on me - that it will be more then ok. It will be wonderful.

You know me.
Well maybe.
Maybe it's me.
Maybe I do prowl between the lines looking for traces of history
trances of me.
But even so, I'm ok with that.
I'm unapologetic about my hostility
and I guess I have to break somewhere.
So it's here where the closest hurts the most-est.
And you know that I wouldn't rend us disrespect,
and give it any less, or let it rest
as if it never happened.

But it does not mean that I am unhappy.
Or that I care.

I don't want to go into the world with this sense of asuming that I know exactly what I should do and be, or that such an identity has already be set in stone for me. It only leads to guilt and frustration, the suppression of possibilities and a ridiculous sense of inadequacy. None of that should be, because God's burden is easy and his yoke is light, and we were made to celebrate Him and to glorify Him by enjoying Him forever.

So I'm here on a glorious Sunday afternoon, doing what I do.

I got home at 12.30 last night. Full of beef choke (congee) and affection for this world. My hair smelled of the bar - a salty-sweet concoction of alcohol, smoke, sweat (mostly not mine) and dying summer rain. I showered and crawled into bed, aching like a marathon runner. My neck was sore from too many dips on the dancefloor. Whiplash maybe? I couldn't turn over to get into a more comfortable spot without feeling my muscles groan I think I over did it dancing this time. Tried to make it for 930's yoga session but at 830 my parched and aching body was not going to let up.

"I've been here for 5 weeks, but I think I've heard her complain about over-doing-it-at-the-party-the-night-before on 4 seperate weekends." Martin to James, after watching Get Smart at the SUB, and before painfully turning down Jin's imploring request for a beer.

I'm now in IKE, music in my head and my Corporations textbook on my knee. My life is perfect (except for my lost necklace and the missing heart that fell out from my wallet). As I told Jarrett, Soush and Martin, it's not so much that there are people who are here for me, it's having people who let me be there for them.