Six Days - 8/10/2007 in 2005 - 2007: High School

Molly's Harry Potter party is tomorrow. It does not look like anything is planned. I guess we will just hang around for a while in Harry Potter costumes. I guess this is okay.

I am trying to decide whether or not I will see Julian for another last time. All I would have to do is invite a few people over here a few days before I leave. All I would have to do is send him an email. I already know exactly what it would say. It would say, "Hey. Are you around on Monday or Tuesday, if I invite some people over? - Aidan." That's all it would say. Part of me wants desperately for this to happen. But I am avoiding it, because part of me just wants to leave, just leave and have it overwith. Part of me doesn't even want to go to Molly's party. I guess it's been proven that I need her. I am irreversibly connected to her, and by extention to everyone else. But I am also repulsed by her. Every time I come across her facebook in my restless internet surfing and see her profile picture, smiling at me insincerely, the way no self-respecting introvert would ever smile, and see her listed as "in a relationship with Dave Garret", I think, "This isn't good for you. She isn't good for you. You need to just leave, and it will be better not to look back."

This applies to Julian too. Didn't I decide that it's a good thing he's not going to Graham? Didn't I decide that I need to forget about him? He's not good for me either. So maybe it's better for there not to be a last time.

Yesterday I went with my mom to the artsy little beach town where we always used to go on vacation. This was a pretty pleasant way of looking back. I realized something though: the beach isn't nearly as much fun when you are an adult. I walked around and looked at the ocean and the sand and the rocks and the little pools with snails in them and tried to think of something to do. When I was a little kid, or even just a few years ago, I would have gotten down on my knees and dug a river from one of the pools to the ocean, and then I would have made a little dam, and maybe built a little wall around the pool. I would have pretended that there was a civilization of very small people living around the pool and that I had to protect them from the incoming ocean. I might have put a couple of snails into the pool and imagined them as giant flesh-eating monsters. I somehow could not bring myself to do any of these things. I have always wondered why adults read books at the beach all the time. It is because there is nothing else to do that won't make them feel like people are looking at them funny. In fact, I am pretty sure it is an unwritten rule of adulthood that if you are alone, you must be doing something productive. This is why when I go to Denny's by myself, I am always offered a newspaper.

I made terrible conversation with my mother. I am always embarassed after the fact about the pointless and/or self indulgent things I spew out when I am with her. She is really the only person I converse with in this way. No more of that in a few days either.

I like my new body pillow. It is like a giant rectangular teddy bear. With no eyes.