So what happens now?

There's six hours between us, but lately it's seemed like the distance isn't the only obstacle. We don't talk half as much as we used to, and it's become clear that nothing is clear for us at the moment. We're both confused, along with the rest of the world that is our age and alone.

I don't want to be alone. That's what it comes down to, really. I don't know what's best for me or for you, but I don't think we are the answer for each other just yet. It's too damn hard. I want someone. It's not a matter of needing. I can live without someone, but I don't want to. I shouldn't have to.

It's been nearly three years since I've had someone. That's a fucking long time to be waiting, and what has come from this waiting anyway?

Nothing, really.

I have some of the best friends in the world, and I like to think of us as a group being closer than normal friends, even in our numbers. We can all talk about our problems freely, even if it is the lighter side of three in the morning and we're all half zombified from lack of sleep. But even if we are all close, we're still undoubtedly *just friends*. I like my *just friends*, but sometimes I want more. No, that's a lie, I always do.

And I think it sounds selfish a lot of the time. It does, really. But I feel a little bit out of the loop sometimes. Nobody, well, in Feilding, that is, seems to have an interest in me. At the risk of sounding whiny, it's not fair.

No, reader, it's not your fault (especially if you're Alex), I'm not saying "Oh, take me home, please, settle for me!", I'm saying "If you do actually like me, please make it known to me." I doubt there is anyone that does, but it's worth a shot, right?

Please don't think I'm at the point where I'll accept anyone. I won't. But, truth is, I do like a lot of people. Chances are, reader, you're one of them. Makes me seem desperate, I know, but I'm past caring.

Heart to heart conversations...

...they always only happen in the wee hours of the morning.

The longer you talk, the deeper you go. You start with dreams, you move to fears, you move to family and friends and problems and solutions and confessions and conflict and agreement and similarities and differences and understandings or lack thereof. It has been months and months since I had a real heart to heart conversation with anyone, so Thursday night was special to me.

The thing I took from it that meant the most? We are two people. Those who feel selfish for having easy lives, and those who feel bad for telling about their hard lives. I am one of the selfish ones. Most of us in the conversation were. And all the while through that part of the conversation, I thought of you. Truth is, I think about you a lot. You've had such a hard life, and I feel like I've helped with at least some of it. I've tried to.

We need to have more of these heart to heart to heart to heart to heart to heart conversations, and give the tired one some V so she can participate in them. I haven't heard enough about her life. I don't know her as well as I'd like to.

Surprisingly, our conversation has not made me think differently about any of my friends; it has just provided me with a deeper understanding of things I already knew about in one way or another. I think we're all closer now, really.

If there's one thing I've been taught, it's that optimism is the best meds for sadness. I talked to a friend today that hasn't contacted me except fleetingly for a very long time, and she has changed. She is optimistic, and she has inspired me to change as well.

All my friends are amazing, whether they believe it themselves or not.