On Friday I worked from six am and then got to go home at 10 pm. But I wasn't working the whole time. I was doing homework, but we all know that doesn't really count.
So I learned that these two guys like me. Two guys who are friends at that!
WHAT COULD GO WRONG?!
Well nothing actually.
I don't like either of them.
Then I met some new friends. We went to go for food after I got off work and then we "partied" at my apartment.
It was so much fun.
At one point we were at McDonalds, and the transfer Junior had ordered a six piece chicken nugget meal. So the lady asks him "Do you have a six pack?" She mean the chicken but this goes, "Course" and then does this giggle he has.
So comes over and states what had just been said, and I go "I have a six pack."
Next thing I know, the crazy sophomore, (I think he is a sophomore) is reaching for my stomach.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"I want to feel the six pack!"
So the rest of the night, everyone was sort of just reaching for eachother's stomachs. It was WEIRD. Not even gonna lie. But one person randomly danced with me in my kitchen.
Then the same guy (the crazy sophomore) and I had one of those movie moments through the glass of my deck doors (I locked him out there).
We have all hung out like every day since Friday.
I haven't known people like these two since freshman year of college.
It was a nice change. Loud. But nice.
We are supposed to go to the Transfers house some weekend. And the other rock climber girl is gonna come too. So I wouldn't be the only girl.
And then I just sorta chilled on Sunday.
I watched a lot of House.
I mean I guess I could have technically written. But I didn't.
Then stuff happened.
What happened was this.
The male-whom-i-was-fond-of returned some movies and a sermon on cd's that I let him borrow. Then I asked him one of the questions I have been asking since April or May. "Have you found the blue notebook yet?"
Okay this is stupid.
The blue notebook is where we would put in writings (mostly mine) and would swap it back and forth. There was some poems from when I was in middle and high school that I had put in there, and then some poems I had written just for him. A Christmas card, and all this really stupid sappy stuff.
And I had given it to my deaf friend to put on his bed.
So last night I asked AGAIN.
And he said he hasn't found it yet. He said, "Perhaps someone took care of it for me."
(And I don't think took care of it was meant in a good way)
And let me tell you. That hurt.
Like words are important to me. I love to write, and I lost words to flame from that time already, which is like 50%- 55% my fault.
Like I started to cry in front of the male-whom-I-was-fond-of.
So I went in and went to my roommate and started sobbing. Because I don't have copies of those poems. Especially not the ones from middle and high school.
I ended up marching to a friend's apartment that I figured the deaf guy would very likely be at.
So I calmed down and we decided that we all needed to have a nice calm chat.
So we went over to the deaf guy's apartment which just happens to also be the male-whom-I-was-fond-of's apartment as well.
And he got there. And we chatted.
AND YES I DID STAY CALM!!!
The deaf friend said that if it was that big of a deal, he would just go out and buy me a new one. I couldn't really talk, so the
male-whom-I-was-fond-of explained it wasn't the notebook itself, but rather what was IN the notebook.
I mean. It was a sweet thought.
He said he DID give it to the male-whom-I-was-fond-of and that he doesn't know where it went. So they went back in to their room and looked some more.
The male-whom-I-was-fond-of came out and handed me a small little composition notebook that used to be in it. It is the beginning of a story he wrote a few years ago. He said I could keep it.
I mean. That too was sweet. But it isn't the same. You know?
I was trying so hard not to start crying again in front of five guys and my one girl friend. So I ended up leaving and going for a walk.
I don't know why I cried so hard.
I really don't.
They are just words.
But.. especially those old ones.. meant something to me.
It was me opening up, and showing bits of the me that I don't often show. And they are missing.
And I was embarrassed that I let it affect me so much.
Now I just wonder what could have happened to it.
I have a feeling I probably won't ever see it again.
And I guess I have to be alright with that.
I can always write new words...
Even though they won't be the same.
Words hold so much magic. Not everyone understands that.
On a brighter side, sign language is REALLY good to know when you can't talk for fear of crying so you can communicate!!
Have a happy monday and I will try to find something entertaining to write about.