I missed Oasis. I admit, for a time I was glad that it was gone because I thought that it was time to let go. See, I developed a sort of scorn for it. Well, not Oasis, but the fact that I wrote on it and what I wrote.
See, there was a guy I barely knew who said that he liked me. Like, really liked me. We talked about what our relationship would be like when we got back to school, and I sent him my journal (this was after Oasis went down, so I sent him my saved copy). Right after that, he told me that it would't work out between us. He started it and ended it in two weeks. It was so hot and cold that I couldn't think of anything to blame but my journal.
Good. I'm glad it's gone. I was stupid to have written in it in the first place, I told myself.
But it didn't have to do with that at all, apparently. He read the first entry and deleted it. He made his decision on other reasons, and I've decided to not care. He has a boyfriend now, he's friends with all of my friends, and it's awkward as ass, but I'm tired of caring. I'm in a good mood.
Thus, I missed Oasis and am glad it is back.
So it's a new start. For the first time in a while, I don't have any crushes or prospects, and I am FINE with that. Really. It feels good. The cute straight guy from high school is all but forgotten, the cynical hottie from last semester is still lurking around but he pretends I don't exist and that is fine by me, the boys in the choir who are nice are still nice but I don't anticipate conversation any time soon, and the sickeningly skinny sainted stranger that everyone built up to be so marvelous has screwed with my heart and walked away without judgment and with a boyfriend from a nearby school, and I really don't care, despite the bitter undertones that snuck in there (I harbor no bitterness! I swear!). I am fine again. I've reached a good place. Sure, there are two guys I avoid when I see them on campus, but who cares? They're only two guys. I am happy with myself, I am happy being single, and I see no reason to become a bitter, desperate fag; I've got three more years of college for that.
In other news, I've been going to the gym, thanks to a conversation I had with Jeff a few weeks ago. It's a process, but I feel really happy when I do it. I certainly boosts confidence.
Ah, happiness; it's nice to feel you again.
January, the worst month of the twelve, is definitely breaking.