Writing here at my computer, I have two ideas about love. I had the first a couple weeks ago. I thought that maybe love is just a way of continuing the human species. The emotions that I have (and that almost everybody has at some point in their lives) and the subsequent pain forces us to find someone. Seeing that mankind has evolved an intelligence, these emotions are an evolved form of the drive to procreate. Our intelligence needs a stronger drive than the ones found in other animals.

The other idea came from a friend of mine, with whom I was talking about my "situation" last weekend. He said that maybe my desire to have a girlfriend is just a product of society. Everywhere you see images of couples in films, you talk about your first kiss when you talk until 4 in the morning, and everybody talks about their own problems with their boyfriend or their girlfriend. You can't avoid all this, and the bombardment makes us think that we need a boyfriend or girlfriend.

In any case, I think it's obvious that I want love to be false, that I can be happy and that I can live without somebody else. I'm bitter, I'm unhappy, and I've become a bit more cynical, and I don't want to be this way. I want to completely avoid "the human drive" or the "product of society", because it's only given me pain and never happiness.

It was yesterday. We were on the grass in front of Columbae. I was reading "Il Giorno della Civetta" ("The Day of the Owl"), written by Leonardo Sciascia. She was writing in her diary. It was around 4. I didn't know how to start, and so I told her everything that I had said before: that there was a girl that I had a crush on. And she told me, "She's not stupid, Simone."

A month before, when she came to Stanford for a weekend during winter quarter, I was debating with myself whether it was better to tell her everything or not. We went to Joanie's in Palo Alto for brunch that Sunday. I told her the same thing -- that there was a girl in Columbae who I had a crush on. She was very interested, and she wanted to know who it was. Naturally, I hesitated to tell her; but I almost told her. In the end, I didn't. At that point, Morgan told me to have fun with the situation, that I should divorce myself from the hope of a positive outcome.

I thought that she was telling me advice that most friends would give. Instead, she was trying to get me to tell her, and to protect me from the fall that she could foresee and that I could not.

I was so blind that I didn't even think about the possibility that Morgan knew already that I was in love with her but that she didn't want to tell me. But that's how it was. In fact, she knew for about a year. She told me that she was a bit annoyed at me because it was rare for her to have guy friends who are just friends. (Then she told me that now she thinks it was cute and flattering.)

It's also funny because she told me about the telephone call that I made to her the day of Christmas. She suspected how I felt about her, so she gave me a sort of "exam". She told me on the phone about her boyfriend that she met during autumn quarter. Apparently, my voice told Morgan everything without me saying anything specific. It's also funny because that was the same conversation after which I realized that I was really in love with her.

You can probably guess how it finished. She said that we're too different, that there's a part of her that she doesn't want to show me, and that the relationship she has with her boyfriend works because they're both "messed up" (those are her words, not mine).

Yesterday was "roomwarming" here at Columbae, when everybody goes from room to room to see the decorations and to drink alcoholic drinks (non-alcoholic drinks, too, if you want). It was a bit strange -- I wasn't sad, but I was happy and content, I was having fun, and I was joking with her: I was talking with another person (who didn't know about what happened between us) about how she was diabolical because sometimes you get burned by her. She joked about a comment another person made (at dinner) when he asked about how my guy problems were going, and I responded to her by saying that she could take a knife and plunge it into my heart seeing as she was playing with my feelings and that she didn't say anything for a year.

I got drunk, and so I had a lot of fun. After roomwarming, everyone danced until three (remember the Daylight Savings Time change). Morgan and I danced a bit together (and also with other people), and I have to say that she was very attractive last night: her long hair was down, and she wore some black eyeliner that was enchanting with her eyes. She also slapped me twice because I wasn't dancing. But maybe for the first time, I saw her as just a friend. I've always seen her as a friend, but before yesterday, I've seen her as a beautiful woman before a friend.

If we hadn't talked earlier, she would have made me go crazy because of her appearance (and because of the slaps, heh heh!).

In contrast to yesterday, though, today I'm not doing well. I woke up at 7 in the morning (I went to bed around 3:30). I drank two glasses of tea, and I started to listen to music (sad music, naturally). And then, I went to cry on the couch until I slept for another few hours. I've been "wallowing in self-pity" for the whole day. I slept another bit, I ate, and I wrote this. I've been close to tears all day, as well. My heart feels like it's going to fall into my stomach ("I figured it was cooties!!"), and I have a bit of physical pain in the same region (luckily, that's not because of Morgan -- I wrestled with two people yesterday night; sometimes I do that when I'm drunk).

I'm grateful to have Morgan as a friend. She doesn't want me to be sad because of her, she's very understanding, and she's a true friend even though she's the same person who I was in love with. I feel guilty because I've made her feel guilty. But, it always takes some time to return to normal, and to not almost cry when I see her. But at the same time, I'm happy that she's around. It's funny that she can be the cause of my pain and someone who can make the pain go away.

Maybe there will always be a small part of me that will always feel something other than friendship toward her. Soon, though, almost all of that will melt away, and I hope that a deeper friendship will remain.

-----

I've been listening to this song for almost the whole day. While the lyrics as a whole aren't applicable to my life at this point, I thought that these (by themselves) are:


I hope there's time to live a while before I die
and if some day I find that time I'll try
to make the cold winter months seem just like warm July
I hope there's time to live before I die

And as long as I'm ok I want to figure it out myself
Let's just hope that in a day I'll find my way


"When I Wake Up Tomorrow", by The Perishers