April 17th, 2003

(no subject)

i dont know what to write about on this thing. about 8 billion people i personally know read this. if i write out my true thoughts on a lot of stuff, i end up pissing people off. i dont even know what the purpose is anymore. for instance, today i was going to write about something james said to me last night over a romantic sushi dinner that completely took me by surprise and hurt my feelings. ive been mulling over it all day and rethinking what i am to him in the relationship and such. i dont really want to get into it, but im hurting today, and i cant think of anyone to call, so im going to email some friends on the west coast. i know this journal is supposed to be like a private book of confessions, but it's just not.

(no subject)

well, james finally called about 45 minutes ago, so we were able to talk about it. that's what i have been waiting for all day. talking things out is always good, but i wish i didnt have to mull all day. things are ok, i think. i hope.