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10:01 p.m.

Lana feelsThe current mood of xengirl at www.imood.com

In which I don't update because of big change and not much time. So. I, uh, graduated on Saturday. Which was exciting and a beautiful close to that chapter of my life, and still not something I've processed enough to be able to put words to it. And I cried my silent little heart out in the van on the way home on Monday, trying just as hard as I could not to let my dad know what I was doing. Tears that had been lurking since Saturday, but that took Dar Williams singing about how Southern California wants to be Western New York to trigger them. Tears for Colorado, for CRMS, for high school, for Josh, and then for Ces and suddenly a trickle became a face-scrunching, silent-screaming, shoulder-shaking waterfall. My best friend, this girl I love more than anyone, ever, and it hit me at 1:00 on Sunday afternoon as I rode through the rolling prairie cornfields in a rented van with my room packed in the back with Dar Williams crooning from the speaker by my foot, that things will really, really never be the same. And I cried, and then I realized that she would by rights be the one holding my shaking shoulders, but I was crying because it will be a long time until we're close enough to do that again, and then I cried more. Viciously cyclic kinda thing. And yet, despite the tears, I wasn't unhappy. That chapter is closed, and I got both new journals and a new fountain pen for graduation presents, so I guess it's time to start writing the next one.

Starting, perhaps, with today. In which I saw the Girl. And it was... none of any of your business, actually. But I really like her. Even on too-cold-for-summer days when I'm wound too tight with nervousness and joy to speak coherently or reach out for her the way I so very badly wanted to, she makes me smile uncontrollably and blush like a schoolgirl and ramble like Willow on speed. And then she turns to me on a busy street and she asks, "is this ok?" and I completely, utterly, (though, I hope, not obviously) melt.

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