I am not a…

“I am not a pretty girl.”

One of my students did a demonstration speech on decoupage (I know that can’t be spelled correctly, but oh well). She brought in a chair she did, complete with cut out phrases, lyrics from songs and paintings to create an artistic collage. The above quote was on her “creation” and I instantly fell in love with it. It has so much meaning. And I admired her. She breaks out of the typical high school girl mold. She’s willing to be her own person–without the makeup and fancy clothes and preppy friends. And she’s happy being who she is. She is that phrase in so many ways.

I feel like writing again. I feel bad for R. though. I tell him that I don’t like to write with him in the room. He’s allowed to read my entries after I write them. But when he’s in the room, it’s difficult to write.

I focus more on him.

So he’s sitting by himself in the other room. Yesterday we were playing Solitare and he wanted to play two person Solitare. I told him no. Sometimes I feel stupid around him. I don’t even know what it is. He doesn’t make me feel that way, I just do. I’m afraid to ask a stupid question or forget something and have to ask again. He’s told me plenty of times not to worry about it, but for some reason I do. And he’s so patient though. He was trying to teach me how to waltz tonight and I kept trying to lead without realizing I was. Yet he never gives up. When I’m in a horribly bitchy mood, he doesn’t care. He’s there to hold my hand. When I’m sleepy, he lets me lay my head on his chest. When I’m half-asleep, he takes me to bed and covers me up. And when I’m asleep, he kisses my forehead and tells me he loves me.

You know, there are times when I look at him and fall in love all over again. His love for me and my love for him constantly amaze me. I’ve since forgiven him for his love of football. I shouldn’t have been so upset that he was watching it yesterday.

My mom keeps emailing me, mentioning Thanksgiving. I am looking forward to going home. But you know what? Part of me wants to stay here with just R. Is it wrong that I want to seclude myself from everything but him? Even now when I’m typing, I still want to be in his arms.

I feel safe there.

I feel loved there.

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In other news, tomorrow is another day of school. Only three days this week. Hopefully it will go by quickly.

Sometimes I wonder where I’ll be next year at this time. A year ago I never would have imagined that I would be where I am now.

Until tomorrow.