I cannot sleep.

I have thoughts in my head that must be recorded now because every second they linger unwritten they become further and further profaned. Already I feel it draining away from me. I must write.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am in serious pain. For a great deal of time now there has been a longing inside of me for someone.

Do you know what it feels like to feel that way? Do you know what it's like to have your waking hours consumed by one thing, to be unable to detach yourself from it? Do you know what it's like to have to wrestle with yourself to go to sleep at night because your mind wandered and there you are again? Do you know what it's like to hate feeling this way?

I've said many things to myself to try to forget it. I've told myself that it would never work; that it was not meant to be; that she knows nothing of this; that this is just my foolish, inexperienced youth crying out once again like it has before. But at the same time I doubt all of that. I wonder if I really am being a fool. I wonder if I'm trying to make myself leave something that is good. But I know in my emotionless, calculating heart of hearts that the chances are that this is a bad thing. That this will only end up causing me pain.

But hasn't it already caused me pain? Everytime I think of it I start to get a little sick a sour look comes across my face--not because I hate the feeling itself, but I hate what the feeling may do to me. Whenever I think I may have done something foolish towards her, I can't stop beating my brains. Every little thing she does I look over obsessively. How does she behave this day? Am I the cause of it? Am I merely a sideshow to her? What is she thinking?

I am in zugzwang! I cannot move. I am at my best place right now, believe it or not. If I were to do something, my situation would become infinitely worse.

There were words in my head before this; before when I was in bed and trying to banish my brain of electrical activity. They were beautiful words that expressed my feelings so eloquently, but with the time it took me to decide to power up the computer and type as far as I have, those fragile words have evaporated and all I have left to express my feelings is brute language.

But that will not stop me, for there is yet more.

I do not know what it is I feel. It is not love; love cannot come from what I have experienced. Or do I love? I never allowed myself to consider this possibility, but is what I feel love? Have I felt love before? Ever since eighth grade I've been deathly afraid of the l-word; to speak it would be to invoke the wrath of the gods and make me vomit all over you. But what if it IS love? What if I really, genuinely feel that?

Some of my Cinconian friends, you will laugh. I have told some of you small bits of my misadventures, and you will say that what I feel cannot be love. Damn, how I wish I could be as certain as you; as certain as I was yesterday. But suddenly my brain has turned over. A revolution has occurred! From no apparent stimulus whatsoever, my entire method of thinking seems to have taken a slight, but crucial step in some direction--let us pray that it is forward.

Maybe what I feel is because of an absence I've had before. Many of you know--and for those that didn't, you do now--that I have only had one girlfriend my entire life, and that that short-lived relationship happened in eighth grade. Maybe I wanted a girlfriend and I never let myself know that. Maybe I've always wanted someone to go to the movies with and hold hands with and share tender kisses with, and maybe that's why I feel as I do now. Or maybe this whole thing is genuine. Or maybe it's both.

Curse it if I know!

And the worst part, oh yes, the very worst part! She doesn't know! She doesn't have a clue--or at the very least she hasn't shown that she has a clue. What's worse? I still will not tell her! After this blog is entered, I will shut down my computer, remove my pants, and go to bed. When I wake up, I will have an iron will and I will be determined to never let her know--not at least until another epiphany strikes me.

All I have to hope for is that she can somehow sense the vibes shooting out from me and that she will respond; that she will either embrace me or turn me away. Oh, how I hope that I get something definite and I hope that this whole crazy business of my adolescent heart does not continue! If you're out there and you know who you are, yea or nay! Yea or nay before hope carries me any further.

(And then there's the problem of hope's involvement in either a yea or a nay, but I have written enough to appease myself for now. Hasta la byebye.)