I havent done a new entry in a while, when i first got back to greensboro my internet wasnt working, and after it was fixed i was just so . . . distracted.
I have been happy, and obsessed, infatuated, and depressed.
and lonely, so fucking lonely sometimes.

It is better here, i can walk to classes and smile at the air. I feel better here, my surroundings are better, but I am not. I am still the same person. I am still me. that makes for a hard time in this world. my self-connsciousness . . spelled improperly, and my fears and doubts, and seeing those damned scars everytime i change clothes.
that is the worst part. I want to tell someone, show someone, have them hold me while i cry about it. but i won't. Plenty of my friends will read this and know, but it isnt the same. I want to tell someone to look at the scars, i want to tell them why i did and why i hate myself for doing it. say to them how it feels everytime i see the scars again. I have turned this problem into something that will loom over me forever.

the story i got published is in my roommate's textbook. I am so excited about the idea that i might be on someone's syllabus somewhere on campus. Some English 101 class might have to read something I wrote one day this semester. It sends chills up my spine to think about it.

so. I saw her today, finally. After all the times she has said she willc all me and we will do something together. I ran into her, she asked me if i had a spare moment, but i had to go to class. I stayed and talked to her just long enough to be late for my first day of japanese 203 this semester.

tomorrow i wake up early.