you're already the voice inside my head: I miss you, I miss you/we're taking this way too slow, take me away from here.

listening: aptly, blink-182, I miss you.

blink-182, feeling this.

I'm sitting here in my new room. 

MY new room, which I paid for and inhabit and arranged according to my own whim. I lock it if I don't want company and even my RA, who ostensibly is my authority-ish figure, knocked before she came in to see if I was all right: and if I hadn't wanted her in here, I could have asked her to leave and she would have had to. Weird. 

I have a single bed, a desk, a desk chair, a bookshelf which Phil built, a mini-fridge, a closet and a bathroom. and it's MINE.

I'm eating cookies that my aunt sent over in a care package and still crying on and off. it's been a rough day for that. I don't want to write too much about it because it was emotional - but frick, I miss the boy, and frick, I miss my family, and frick, I miss my friends. 

but it's like I told Emily, one of the RAs, when she came in to make sure I was okay (a little weepy, but functioning!): today will be the worst. it will get better and better.

but frick, I miss you.

ykylm,

rae