Glee
18 June 2005 at 9:29 pm

Can I just say, cranberry juice? I love you.

I don't know how I managed to get a C in my stupid physics class (not, like, it was a stupid class, but it was a class for people who are stupid about physics, which I obviously am). I failed both the midterm, the second midterm, and the final, and he only received one of my book homework assignments (though I sent two out of three), but somehow I passed. Which means I don't think I'll ever have to take a math or science class again which means YAY.

A coworker (who is very sweet but not very smart) thought that my major was going to be something in medicine. I had absolutely no response.

Aaron and I had a Major Talk last night, as opposed to the Major Fight we had in the morning. He told me, essentially, that I can't be a bitch to him and blame it on the fact that he cheated on me two years ago because it's keeping him from growing as a person. He said all this over the period of 45 minutes while he was crying vehemently, insisting that all he's been doing the past two years is supporting me, moving where I want to move, working the jobs that I want him to work and giving me all his money, and loving me as best he could and that he's the one who has to fall asleep at night thinking about all the horrible things he's done throughout his life, and then he begged me to tell him that he is a good person. I was on major emotional shutdown after the sobfest from the morning, but I told him with as much affection as I could manage that I would still love him and be with him if he wasn't a good person.

Then he told me I have to learn how to trust him and I don't even know what that means anymore. I can't remember that last time I trusted anyone.

Then I told him that he should do what I do to fall asleep when I'm feeling like the worst person in all the land: I have happy daydreams about the future, about training a new puppy or walking down a red carpet or coming home to a home-cooked meal after getting off work from my ideal job or starring in the perfect wedding.

We fell asleep together, the tv off, him reading the book I bought him six months ago that he's still only 60 pages into, me nestled, my nose to his elbow, slowly nodding off, feeling simultaneously worse and better than I have in a long time.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.