Wednesday, July 17, 2002

So, I into the webified diary now. Ooh. I guess I will have to edit my web page at some point and link to this. I guess I worry a lot. I worry about being broke, about being fat, about Andy leaving. I worry that I'm not doing well at work, that I don't act very smart, that I'm not particularly likable any more. I wish this didn't consume my life so much.
Writing on a computer doesn't seem as real as writing in a diary. I can go back and edit, delete; my immediate thoughts are not necessarily permanent. I come off as a better writer. Already, I am scanning the first couple sentances and editing them.
Andy is still here. Almost a year. Half of me wants whisper in his ear "Marry me. I love you". I know he wouldn't want to, that anything I said would be awkward. Maybe I just want to marry him so I don't have to worry that I won't marry him. That can't be though, I want to share everything with him and this is just an extension. Maybe.
I don't want to get to thirty and be alone. Thirty isn't old, but it is a viable, die-able age.