Feeling: groggy
Listening to: Alkaline Trio - Stone Age
Reading/Watching: Georgette Heyer - Regency Buck

For the past two weeks, I've really not been sleeping well.

I'll get under the covers around 11 or 12, read a book to get quiet, and then turn out the lights sometime before the wee hours.

And I start thinking.

It's a mess. It keeps me awake until 2 or 3 in the morning, sometimes as late as 4 or 5, and I tend to wake again every hour or so, drifting into an open-eyed stupor when the sun rises and comes bleeding through the cracks of my windowshade. I can never stay in bed past 9; it's maddening. Then during the day, I'm pensive and withdrawn, wired, fretful, hyper, but never normal. There were always too many questions circling behind closed eyelids.

Last night, many questions were answered. Without knowing any of the backstory, the air force boys seem to be very ready to give hugs and side with me. It's so immeasurably comforting.

As for The Boy of Current Frustration... we talked. He asked if I'd ever confused friendship with love, attempted to see if there was more there, and felt foolish when I realized there wasn't.

...It's ironic, that he went through the same process I've undergone so many times, except for him it took 24 hours, and it usually takes me a few months (although, in my defense, there is rarely a snogging opportunity in which I might realize that our friendship is, indeed, better off platonic). And me, I had been blissfully ignorant, and so when lines were blurred, I was very willing to cross them permanently. It's just too, too funny that we switched places. The night that made him realize he didn't want me, is exactly what made me want him.

But I can deal. As long as I know it wasn't the worst, I can handle being friends, as long as I'm not a Kleenex girl.

He assured me I'm not. And followed me on my way out, just to make sure I gave him a hug. A good one.

Tonight I intend to sleep like the dead.

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