Inside This Mind.

10.16.2005 * 7:43 p.m.
at least my cats love me.

All my closest friends live too far away.

I've still got a few amazing friends around here (but I don't see them often enough), and I'm making more and more new friends, but these new folks aren't quite like the people that surrounded my life last year. There aren't very many hugs here. There haven't been any laughter filled evenings piled onto couches. I don't invite loads of people over to my house anymore. It's different, it's strange, but it's not too terrible. Only a little bit.

I also have declared myself stricken with a disease. It's actually more of an obsession than a disease. Well, it's less of an obsession than it is a mental preoccupation. For example, while out on a date with a really nice guy, I walked by a souvenir shop and my brain automatically thought, "Oooh. I should get a postcard to send to The Spaniard." I didn't, of course, but the fact that that went through my mind tells you that yes, I do indeed have a condition. Call it what you will. I'm thinking you could probably label it "love" and you wouldn't be wrong.
(He's been a missionary for 2 months, today. Excellent.)