'i've forgotten what i started fighting for'

a post is long overdue. i've travelled a decent distance from my sad haze of the week, and it's important for me to put that out there. i don't want to present an entirely skewed vision of me or my life by posting primarily when things are not going peachy-keen.

i'm in VA for yet another weekend, ostensibly for justin and dre's wedding but also, of course, to see todd. i am constantly obsessing over this relationship and realizing how hard it is for me to simply just go with it. he makes me feel so secure and happy and i have more fun with him than anyone else, so i know it's not completely illogical that i want to spend as much time with him as i can, but i am constantly scared at the same time to allowing myself to get comfortable, lest it all just disappear. it's a shitty mindframe to have and i want so badly to work on it. sometimes emotionally i really feel like complete damaged goods.

the wedding was really quite lovely and of course worth none of my pre-event fretting. the weird high school reunion anxiety disappeared after a couple of the best mojitos i have ever tasted, and it was a really nice time. with time though and a few more mojitos, being surrounded by all this coupleStuff i got moony and eventually found myself in mingo flying back down I-95 to richmond to spend another night with todd. completely not my plan, completely not necessary as i had just spent 16 hours with him that day and the night before, but completely something i could not not do once i got the idea in my head.

are relationships always so scary, or is this just me and my post-losing-mom issues?

i don't want to only post about my relationship stuff, either. i know i do too much of that and i fear i'm just not as interesting to read as i once was. tripp recently said i am more boring now tht i don't talk about hooking up and sex and whatnot any longer, but i am certainly not going to post about that with todd (other than to say i am very satisfied and it is quite lovely). i guess i could write more about physical things when they didn't … matter. or when they weren't part of something important. does that make sense?

in theory, my self-aborption should decrease proportionally to the number of hours i will be at work now that i have accepted a job part-time at the independent bookstore in my neighborhood. also thinking number of interesting stories should conversely rise proportionately. but of course, math is not really my thing, is it?