Angst

I haven't cried since I came to Smith, (I haven't cried since I thought I was going to live in Cutter actually) but I think I will soon. You can't uproot your life and move away from all of your friends and family without crying a little, and I don't have any friends here. I didn't talk to anyone face-to-face today until I was walking home from CVS (at about...7:30 at night) when a man asked me how to get to South Street. I almost started crying then and there. I'm ok now, but it was close, I also almost started when I went to see the Thin exhibit at SCMA, and it wasn't because the eating disorder pictures were sad (even though they are). There's a Dane Cook bit (I'm in college ok, Dane Cook is part of College Culture) about needing to cry that I've been thinking about. He is pretty funny, even if I feel embarrassed for admitting it. I hope I'll feel better afterwards, but that doesn't mean I want to jump right in and get it over with.
I'm IMing with Paul. He's a friend of Butter's that used to go to Geneseo, and we hung out a few times. He came on to me last year, but I wasn't interested (I think this was during the Goose-era, but maybe I was still stuck on Marco, who can remember?) so I passed him along to Chelsea. They danced around for a bit, but it never really happened, mostly because they weren't attracted to each other and were sort of humoring me/happy to have someone to make out with. He's finally coming out and saying that he likes me though, which I think is interesting. No one likes me more than Chelsea, but he does. He even said I could have stolen him from her if I wanted to, which was something I suspected, but would never ever have tried. I appreciate him telling me straight out that he liked me and was disappointed by my rejection. It's awful, but I sort of needed to hear someone that isn't in my immediate family tell me that they care about me. (That isn't awful, but being consoled by his admitting to carrying a torch, however dimmed, is. I bet he would still go for me if I felt like it (I don't, and I told Chelsea I wouldn't. I don't see how not being friends anymore voids that promise.).)
My stomach sort of hurts, which makes sense as I ate a whole box of raisinettes while watching I'm Reed Fish. I was hungry, and they are very delicious, possibly my favorite candy. The movie wasn't great, but it worked at making me less sad and focused on my failure to connect with anyone at Smith. I'm pretty tired now too, so it also killed time until I could go to bed and probably not wake up at 4 AM, ready to start my day.
This post is sort of a downer, I'm sorry. I'll try for something more upbeat next time.
I'm going to be brave and wish JA a happy Valentines Day tomorrow. Or, today, as it's past midnight. It's way easier to be brave when there is so little at stake, but he's the best I've got right now. I wish nice, attractive, friendly guys who like me did more for me. Paul is sort of weird, but probably harmless, and JA is great. I need to get my head in the game and like him more. Maybe if he comes to visit me.