I hate coming home drunk and alone. Mostly because I don't understand how after everything that's happened and all of my understanding I can still somehow be in love with him, if only a little, if only it hurts when I go home drunk and alone. I know that I have good friends, and that a lot of people love me, and that I am special. That somewhere out there is My Boy, that love, if I want it, is there for the taking. But after Greyson broke my heart I vowed never to settle for second best. And I have stuck to that. Even just for freshman year of college dating I wait for something more than just a flurry of butterflies. I have to feel it in my bones, without reservation.
So I wait, and I trust in a Higher Power of Some Kind that a love will happen where, on a Friday night, we fall asleep sober. His hands on my ribs and the place where my cheek and jaw and neck meet. And it will be good.

Things that happened on Chat Roulette tonight:

• A man masturbating with a sign on his chest that said "I am your slave."
• A man singing and playing his guitar who was so happy I didn't click through
• Talked to some guy at Stanford for like 15 minutes
• Talked to Andy in Manitoba for an hour or so, I love him
• Really just a lot of penises
• Someone asked if they could see my boobs
• Talked for like 2 minutes to some kid at UCSB who wasn't writing his paper
• Got asked by some 15-year-olds what my problem was
• Some guys at a party played with lasers
• I got a lot of compliments on my shirt
• I talked to Pikachu

I am such a fan. But you could easily waste your whole life on there.