patience . . .
It's raining in College Place, and my feet are wet, because I have holes in the bottoms of my flats. Some things never change.
I am more assertive than I would like to let on, and keep trying to fix everything. I have yet to come up with a rational excuse as to why patience is the least important of virtues, and why I shouldn't just let things be. But slowly, I'm becoming distracted or exhausted enough.
I have somewhat of a psuedo-date later this week. Or so Emily tells me that that's what it is, while I prefer to think I'm just going to spend a bit of quality time with a new friend. Exchanging of numbers felt sort of awkward, as he stood slumped over my back cubicle in the library. But he was sincere and polite and sweet. The next day I saw him in Kretchmar. I was wearing spandex pants and my unwashed hair was starting to dread, but he looked at me with warm eyes and told me I looked nice. I didn't. I don't feel any big spark, but he's sincerely nicer than almost anyone I've ever met, and maybe these things just take time.
2 comments:
Tree Nuts, check it, I'm leaving you a comment. Also just so you know that permanent marker you wrote on my hands is really living up to it name. Anyways its 4am and I just got off work, but I wanted to read your blog before bed (AND post a comment cause I'm not a self reader). Night.
You are a good person.
I was sitting in class last Friday just thinking, "Trina Yeo is a good person. I hope she knows that. Heck. I should just tell her." But alas, I couldn't answer my phone when you called.
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