Toi mon amour

So, there's this guy. This beautiful, brilliant, sexy beast of a guy. There's something about him, this thing I can't seem to get over, a habit of his, that makes him sort of an ass. And it kills whatever we could've been.

It is the saddest thing: sad people becoming sadder together. Already contagious loneliness amplified by the bittersweet taste of an almost-love, gnawing at our hearts every time we meet. Masochistic, really.

I still hold out for him, though. Whether it be mail, phone, text - I keep waiting, wishing for it. Guess I'm an idiot that way.

C'est une étudiante

For the past month, I've been living in a student flat with 5 musical theatre people, a psychology student and a girl I've yet to find out what she studies. This flat, this corridor, has been my home and the five musical theatre people have been my sole social connections.

It's been truly horrible. 

There has been constant singing, even during the nights, and the kitchen's been filled with musical theatre people from the entire student building - which consequently is always messy. I've been killing myself trying to be friends with these people, to get along and compromise and work out what's best for all of us, but all that's been cleared up is my unability to contribute with anything of interest to their musical theatre lives, their musical theatre songs and their musical theatre education. 

So I gave up and asked a girl to swap rooms with me. It's a decision I do not regret.

I live a more peaceful life now than I did a week ago. For that I am thankful.