The amount of time I have spent fretting over Friday night can be summed up in one, obvious word: ridiculous. I over-analyze everything and O, how I know it! Everyone I talk to tells me the same thing, but still, I worry. About everything that transpired between us, I dwell on them and critisize myself for everything I said and how I could have said things differently. More sly, more cunning, more romantic, more sweet, more flirty, less truthful. Ok, truth–I’m not talking about lying or manipulation. But by some amazing power, I just cannot hold my tongue sometimes. No matter how much I know that by completely admitting something to this amazing guy, I know I am putting myself at high risk. If I freak him out, or reveal too much, or catch him off guard, or whatever! Something! Anything! I’ll say it, and I fear it will drive him away. He’s the best thing that’s come into my life so far this school year, and I would hate to lose him for something completely stupid and foolish that I would say.

Oy… I just wish I could eat something.

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