Feeling: sad
Listening to: Rufus Wainwright (I *finally* bought one of his CDs)
Reading/Watching: Angel, s.3

The way I've been carrying on, you'd think he was dying, instead of just graduating from college and moving on to better things in distant locations.

He and I keep trying to make plans to hang out (or at least I tell him to call me), but with his family in town, he is busy celebrating and going to dinners and hearing "congratulations" and I've already hugged him about 50,000 times in the past three or four days as it is.

I really didn't look at these days too closely at the beginning of the semester. I approached it with a so-what attitude, because (with the exception of the month or two junior year when I girlishly thought he was omgtehcutestevar!!!1!eleventyone!!), I was always kind of nonchalant about him, because he is nonchalant about everything. I was the silly melodramatic one, he was the reserved, dry-wit one. And I pretended that his graduating wouldn't be a big thing, because hello, he goes back to DorothyLand every single Christmas and summer, and life goes on.

But it's different when I know that in a week or three, we'll be going out to lunch after choir again, or running to Wal-Mart for DVDs and deodorant at 11:30 p.m. on a Tuesday.

We keep trying to find time to vaguely "hang out" again, and now I'm thinking that's not the best idea. Because I am going to really fucking miss you, Miller. And if we go on another silly midnight Wal-Mart run I am going to cry. You don't want that, trust me. You'll get quiet and awkward and I'll be teary and it just won't be silly and fun like it should be.

So let's leave it as it is, with movie night on Friday, when everyone else was around and smiling and laughing. I hugged you then. And I didn't cry.

Come back soon. Because it's not like you're dying (unless you consider the cigarettes, but we all have our vices). You're going to call me, and make inappopriate observations about boobs, and talk about ManDay or whatever the hell it is when you cook dinner with your buddies, and you'll begin every other sentence with "I dunno" and "mmBut", and during Spring Break I will drive north into DorothyLand and come see what it is that makes you keep going back there.

And someday, you will make me that honey chicken dish thingy you keep bragging about being so good at. Right?

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