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Well, like I said, I can't stop thinking about him. There are so many things about him that make us so alike, but I think what I love the most are his little idiocyncracies. The little bits of his character that I could have never wished for, but giggle when I see them. Those little things that perhaps would be described of him by a novelist, if he were a book character. The fact that he carries Listerine Pocket Packs, and he carries his stuff in a briefcase, and he loves Target, and likes to look at houses, and is obsessed with the Beatles, and has rugs that match his bedsheets, and uses a Mac instead of a PC, and rambles when he's nervous, and covers his hands with the ends of his sleeves, and has a record player in his room, and his closet doors are swinging saloon style, and he wears striped socks, and he waits for other people to get their food before he eats, and playing the guitar helps him think.

How can I have not seen this sooner?

Yes, it is a renaissance. There has been a major takeover in my heart. And it all started with a simple email . . .

I won't tell you the entire story, it's too long and I can't even remember all the details. But essentially, the Claremore Factor became irresistable. There was so much of him, I couldn't deny it. He was making me fall in love with him every time he opened his mouth. Every second I spent with him made it harder and harder to be in love with our Beck Lookalike. Time and emotions invested were the only things keeping me back. Finally, I knew that the old love meant nothing and that the new could be everything.

I told you about the time diallation. But did I tell you about the time, months ago, when everything had been going wrong and I'd gotten hurt and I was crying, and he comforted me completely? No one can do that, no one can just make everything ok with thier words. No one but him. Or did I tell you about the time that I felt that everyone had deserted me, but he was still by my side. Or when he told me, "I just don't want you to go away." Or how the first time I saw his room, my thought was, "I didn't know there was someone else this much like me."

I was thinking that constantly. Everytime we'd talk, I'd learn something new about him that I completely could relate to. I started to be able to tell what he was thinking, to understand him. It scared me, at first, how well we seemed to fit. That was a while ago, when I was scared. I ran from it then. But now, I am so happy.

And he feels the same. This is perhaps the most amazing part. He feels the same. He said he'd been praying for God to send someone who could understand; me. He said, "I never thought I would find anyone like you." I mean as much to him as he does to me. I am his prayer. I am so happy that I can make him this happy. I have always prayed for someone like him, he's prayed for someone like me. This is amazing. This is perfect.

"Find yourself someone who sees you like the way you do now baby, yeah." -Twothirtyeight

Not here, but here.

He makes me fear for my heart, he really does.

That stupid weblog, why'd I encourage him to write in it? It's just torture for me, to see his heart like that. And to see his talent. It makes me nearly cry every time I read it. How do I stand it? What am I missing?

And then there's the Claremore Factor. . .

I said I wasn't up for that, I know. It's too far, he's too young. And I just wasn't up to the challenge. But today . . . I saw something that made me want to change my mind.

We were finishing up with practice and he was shutting down the mics so I could take him back to his house. Somehow we'd gotten on the topic of time diallation. It's some abstract mathematical physics concept, and as he started to talk about it, this look came over him and made him look almost ethereal. He didn't look like like Joe does when he's trying to explain a theory to me, as if the ideas in his head were painful to explain. And it wasn't like Nathan, explaining things as if it's a diversion to be speaking. It wasn't like Mr B, instructing and helping me along. He stood there behind the sound board with a look of wonder and joy on his face, speaking of this amazing theory that explained humans as beings of light, and how time and the entire world is bent. He was simply telling me some bit of knowledge and he let the awe he felt at this concept show on his face. I think he forgot I was even there. Pure, unadulterated joy in knowledge.

I could have fallen in love with him right then. Perhaps I shouldn't spend so much time alone with him.

Oh dear, I really freakin want a boyfriend. I just read about Sarah B. getting sung to as she falls asleep. I want that. I want to be sung to, I want to be kissed and cuddled. I want to be given a sweater to wear when it's cold. I want flowers and pictures given to me. I want to have doors opened for me and JUST me. I want to go on a date. I want to be kissed goodnight. I want long hugs.

Last week, my friend Brad was voted Biggest Flirt at school. To celebrate, he was giving all his female friends kisses. He kissed me on the cheek, which is usual for him. But then he kissed me on the neck, which doesn't mean anything, coming from him, but a kiss on the neck is so sweet and so intimate. It just brought it all back and as I walked to my next class, I had to try not to cry.

And last night, I saw my ex boyfriend and he was wearing the sweater he'd given to me, and I'd given back when we broke up. The one that smelled like him, that I would sleep in. And he'd ripped a hole in it.

I want a boyfriend. And I have no options availible to me. None at all.

Sometimes I can't stand him. When he takes a step back when I take one forward, when he acts so in fear. When he is so obviously hiding his feelings and I can see through him, but when I call him on it, he denies it. When he can't take the heat. When he's so self concious or indecisive.

But other times, I can't stand to be away from him. When we talk, and I know he's really listening to me, that he really cares about what I'm saying. When he's the only one in the world who can understand. What's that line from Fight Club? "When people think you're dying, they really listen to you instead of just waiting for their turn to talk." That's how he always is with me. He is never just waiting for his turn to talk. When he tries so hard to make me feel better.

It's a good thing, I suppose, that at times I despise him. It makes it easy to push him out of my head. But tonight I'm feeling lonely again, and when you feel sick, all you want is someone to cuddle with and take care of you.

Kayla, girl, I feel for you.