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delicate

12/16/00

For all that I attempt to be tougher and have a stronger exterior, I am fragile. Little things can really destroy me, and I haven't learned yet how to remind myself that these are just little things, and don't really mean anything. My problem is that every little thing that happens to me symbolizes something huger, or at least something that seems huger to me. Today is a prime example.
     I went out "job-hunting" with Erik and Jeff today. Previously Erik had thought Jeff and I would be a good couple, but it is obviuos to me that Jeff doesn't think so. But that isn't really what got me down. The thing that got me was just in the car on the way to the first place where they were looking for jobs, when the two of them were joking in the front seat (I had been pushed to the back seat because the "men" had the rights to the front), and said something that was obviously towards me and mean, because they wouldn't repeat it when I said I hadn't heard. Obviously, this isn't a big deal... it's happened to me a lot of times; I zone out a lot, thinking to myself. But the fact that they were making jokes about me just made me feel bad, because I realized I shouldn't have gone with them, and they didn't really want me there, even though they're both my friends. They just wanted to do a guy thing. Erik said I should have 'been a guy' with them and I wouldn't have felt bad. But why should I have? I'm obviously not a guy.
     So now you see how I make a mountain out of a mole-hill. When Erik reads this(because I know he will) he will scoff, and then call me, and tell me it really was nothing to be worried about. Erik is better at being himself than I am.
     The other thing that happened to me today is equally insignificant, but at the same time so important to me. Saint Andrew's deleted my email account on their server. I don't feel like unloading the whole thing about Saint Andrew's here, but it is sufficient to say that my email account was one of the last little ties I could hang on to from SAS. I could log in and find out if my friends were on, or even if they weren't, I could see that my old teachers were there or something. It's stupid, and really wouldn't seem comforting to anyone else, but for me it was nice, like I could know at least what a few people were doing over there. And at least I was still a St. Andrean, if only in the domain name of my email address. But now it's gone, and I'm not crying, just aching. I am severed.