Holy shit, 16 replies on my last journal entry! I wanted to respond to each one because I appreciate that congratulations and such, it's nice of you guys =] So now the counts up to 32, hah, dang.
I'm seeing Incubus tonight! [aka one of the best bands ever] Mom and I are seeing them in Los Angeles, and I actually think she's more excited than I am. We have all the albums and know all the songs [though she doesn't know any of the names of songs, hah] and love Brandon Boyd. I'm just waiting patiently for my polar bear t-shirt to be dry so I can wear it.
So C left for Europe the 9th, and will be gone til the 18th. It does suck a little that she had to leave the day after we initiate something, but then again, we don't have to be apart [again] wondering what the hell's going to happen and worrying about it. Now we just have something to look forward to when she gets home. Oh yes, I'm happy.
Right now I have a wierd feeling about me. Like I'm second-guessing, or being self-conscious, and in general feeling kind of stupid. [This in no way relates to being with C at all!] I've taken it up to write to C as a substitue for talking to her, so I'm using notebooks paper as a little journal-esque thing, you know? And right now it's like "Oh, should I keep it?" I don't know, I get like that. Especially with writing. Even writing stuff on here I sometimes wonder if maybe I should've kept it to myself, like it was an illegitimate thing to write. You know, that's actually how I feel, as if I'm writing for no reason, so why write at all? or something. Even now, it's like "Do I really want to write about this in my online journal?" I have the temptation to just delete it and forget about it.
I think the feeling sparked by me telling S how I told C that now we can slightly relate to the song Transatlanctism [a song about being seperated from a loved one] because we're transatlantic and S saying "That's dumb." And sometimes I've felt it after telling S and Y about C and I kissing, even though part of the fun is in telling the story!
It's a wierd feeling, and I hate having it. Because even when I've wanted to do something for somebody, like give somebody something kinda nice for no particular reason it's like "well, should I? It's a nice idea, but what if they think it's wierd?" I don't know. Do you? It leads me to believe that I have a fear of regret and that I don't want to do anything I'll regret saying/doing in the future. If that makes sense in relation to what I've mentioned before.
Maybe going to the concert will rid me of the feeling. And thinking about happy things: Yes! Incubus. Yes! C. Yes! Summer. Yes! Life.