Like tonight, the usual drinks-after-work, and his arm was touching mine the whole time, his leg resting against mine. And tonight, I resisted the invitation. It's wrong. He won't break up with her. He's a cheat, a bastard, a jerk. I could love him, in in fact, I think I do love him, but I will not be with him again. Everything about him makes me weak, the thought of his arms and his smell and his intense kiss... but even with the intoxication of four drinks, I resisted. I remember laughing so hard, looking at my coworkers, amazed at how far I'd come in my friendships with them.

The woods were so cold and dark, but my headlamp lit the way. I know those trails by heart. The darkness cannot hide the roots and turns I know exist. Thump-crank rattle, I crashed home.

But more than Him, I'm thinking about who I am. Am I the Other Girl? He's shown me that I can be that girl. It's not the way I want to be. Temptation. So vile. I resisted.

Plus, with my recent acquisition of a cell phone, my social life has logarithmically increased. Suddenly people call me. They can get a hold of me at work. Suddenly, I have guys leaving me messages. I had a date on wednesday night. I have a different date tomorrow night.

My confidence is soaring. Perhaps I'm a little cute. Perhaps I'm a little desireable.

I got assigned to a massive tedium-inducing project at work. I will be using roughly 10k of reagents in order to get enough N's, replicates, for this one key product protocol. Just when He thought he was on his way to the office to leave the lab behind for ever... "Hey I know who could help you out with these experiments! He still owes us 10 days before he leaves for the office." Oh yeah, there are good times to come.

Tomorrow night... I'm scared. More than scared, I'm scared that this guy just may work. Can I get my mind off of Him? It's so hard, when you work side-by-side for eight hours a day.

Yeah, Krista, I see the details on campus too. I see the light as it pours over the trees, the way the wind stirs up eddies of reddened maple leaves, and the way that everyone's cheeks glisten with chill. It's beautiful, so alive, yet decaying all the same. It's a great place. It smells. So. Good.

So Friday night, here I am in my jammies, soboring up, tired, exhausted, wishing for warm arms. Wishing for his smell, even though I know I really don't wish for it. Up with the roosters tomorrow. Up to feed the sheep. Up to clean in preparation for Mom's visit for tea.