Not much to say about today. It was the last day of the first week of day camp and next week we will be getting all new kids. I've only been with these kids three days but they are adorable and loveable and I'll miss them, even though I wasn't able to remember all of their names ...

What I've been thinking about non-stop all-day is the boy. Again, I know. Missing the boy is turning me into the whiny angsty teenager I once was.

I inherited my father's insomnia so last night was spent drifting in and out of sleep and having snippets of dreams about the boy coming home and things being, weird, different, awkward between the two of us.

And I'm starting to think that might be the way it is when he does come home. We won't be together as often. None of us has the guts or willpower to actually put effort into a relationship, and so I'm afraid that we'll just drift apart and I'll never really notice the fact that I haven't talked to him in a while ...

I don't want that to happen. I wish he could come home right now, or if at least I could talk to him ... We haven't even been able to communicate through emails. I can't see him, I can't talk to him, the only way I can feel that he's still out there somewhere is by closing my eyes and squeezing the bus ticket he gave me hard in my hands and pretending that he's there.

I hate that he's not here because, as you can well see, when he's not around I start getting insecure about our relationship and I expect the worse and I work myself into hysterics.

I do have nice dreams about him though. Nice, peaceful, quiet dreams where we're back in the park or in the street or under the bus shelter and everything feels good again. And he tells me I'm beautiful and I actually believe him, for once.

But that's only dreams.

Ooh, my guestbook has officially been spammed by the almighty Georg. I will not bother to take then entry down because it makes me feel special that someone would think that spamming my guestbook would actually lead to something ....