I watch you in your sleep even when [I'm] not there.

One door closes, another opens.

I've gone from Trader Joes, morning coffee trips with my roommate, random shopping with the housemates, bitching about the horrible work conditions, loving actors, hating bosses, sleeping at his house, and days in DC;
to Pel's and the Waffle House, getting kidnapped by my ladies, dodging people I hoped to never see again, getting phone calls and e-mails from everyone at the theatre who needs a hand, ignoring the passive-aggressive fights between my parents, and trying to find a way to my heart again.

This place kills me inside, a little, it always has. But I've got good people here who love me and that helps.
"That which does not kill you makes you stronger", right?

Fuck. I need a job.

And I'm waiting for this task to end.

"You're turning into quite the young lady", my grandmother's words echo in my mind and my laughter chases it through the tunnels of my subconcious. I suppose I am, at that.
Though I still don't quite think "lady" applies yet. I'm still too young for decorum.
I've got one life to live, y'know, and I'm still young enough to enjoy it.
My only regrets are the things I didn't do.

My sleeve still smells of coffee from my walk this morning. Afternoon. What-have-you.
The cup clunked down in front of her with a sense of finality, coming to rest after its 20-minute-long journey. She slept on, oblivious, while the others around her looked at me with creased brow. Asking questions with their eyes.

Theorum.

I sleep more, I'm more awake in the mornings but I have less energy.
I sleep less, I'm horribly out of it in the mornings but I have an endless well of energy.
I sense potential experiments in my future. If I can muster the energy to do them.

I found you on a Saturday and that was where I lost you

I listen with my ears and my body to the music, the drums thrumming my throat like an extension of themselves, and my eyes listen with an almost religious fervor to the lights flickering over my face. Over the faces of the people around me. Over the faces of the people that brought us here.
I look around, at the bodies packed mere inches from me to the people leaning on the railings, watching us with an almost bored expression, to the people on the platform and I realize that I love them. Every last one of them. From the boy watching the dance floor like we're sub-human to the Joker who spins and dips his girlfriend with all the elegance one wouldn't expect in a crowded room.
A hat lands on my head and I look back at his smile. My eyes flick over the rest of my companions, the one who can't stop moving to save his life, the one who looks at us dubiously but dances any way and the one who keeps everyone else in check. I feel laughter bubbling in my throat and I have to turn around before it over-takes me.
"Write love on her arm" the back in front of me declares.
'I will!' I promise silently. 'I swear I will.'

-System error.
Shut down imminent.

Core unit too content.

Reboot?
Y/N

No, nay, never!

There's this boy from London I'm utterly captivated by.
A boy back home I'm sanely in love with.
And a boy in DC that I would quite like to get to know better.
Really, lovely, you don't need to set me up with your friends. I'm quite taken enough.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" He asks, wrinkling his eyebrows. A look of surprise, disbelief, crosses his face, and I take it as a compliment.
"You look different... Older! You looked 18 when I got here, now you look 20. You've gained weight. But in the good places! Your chest is bigger and you look more... fleshed out. It looks good on you."
I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

The silk of my "little black dress" slides down my legs as I shift and it makes me shiver a little. I like the feel of it along my sides, as unused to it as I am.
"That's your catching a man dress, you look amazing in that." She grins at me suggestively and I laugh. Partially from the wine, partially because I just don't know what to say.

You may be right, I may be crazy.

Sitting here, listening to the Scattergories buzzer and watching the people I've known for all of three months (or two weeks) bent over these cards, I realized that I'm happy.
I love this place. I love these people. I love the experiences I'm having and the things I'm learning.
I love the half hour walk to the Starbucks and bakery every day after work. I love curling up on the papazan to read. I love getting coerced into going exploring in DC. I love getting randomly invited to go somewhere. I love how beautiful this place is. I love the cider in the glass next to me, making my head a little fuzzy.
I'm so happy here.

...But it might just be a lunatic you're looking for.