Yes kids, this is the third birthday my journal has seen and possibly the most significant one. I remember being 16, being stupid and concerned with trivial crap and not being able to picture myself in this position. I never imagined quitting Dairy Queen, leaving high school, going 5 states away to college. It's weird how your life just kind of leads you down a path you thought you'd never find. Now I am 18. I can vote, buy porn, and go to a strip club. (Which I am doing tonight.) And lo and behold, I have met someone.

I first noticed him when he got off the elevator and fell onto the floor. It was his birthday, and he had celebrated. I brushed him off as another uncontrollable frat boy and didn't think twice. Then we got to talking. I didn't know how to pump my own gas, being that I'm from Jersey, and he said he'd teach me. And take me to a strip club. And show me how to take a shot like a champ. Then it was his room, where he played the guitar to a song he wrote. I think I knew it then, but I wasn't sure, and I hate liking people because they almost never like you back. He was a freshman who was in the Marines and sold knives. This was college, he was a guy, there were tons of girls, and I wasn't even going to bother. But there was something very vague and warm about him, like you just wanted to hug him or something. I felt this level of protection, like he knew how things worked. He didn't try to be anyone, to be macho, to act manly, he just was how he was, and when you don't try it's the fucking sexiest thing in the world. That night I went to bed and I felt all the forbidden things I felt in high school which I had promised myself would not exist here. I wouldn't let myself go through this again. I wouldn't stand for another greedy boy to feed me lies and tell me lots of pretty words. But I knew I was going to anyway.

The next morning I tried to make sense of things. Then he came to my room. I had left my blanket in his. Did I want to do something tonight? Damn straight I did. We went to my friend's apartment. I probably shouldn't have had so much to drink. Especially since I had never had whiskey before. But I did, and then I threw up several times. If there was any chance in hell that he liked me, then this would distinguish any feelings he had for me. No one likes a drunk girl who's throwing up four times. But it was ok with him, and he kept saying how he couldn't believe he still liked me even after all that. They way I see it, if he wanted some ass, there's lots of girls who would be willing to go for it. I don't think I give off the easy vibe, and I'm pretty clear on what I'm comfortable with, so he knows what he's getting into. So stuff happened, and he said lots of things which I did not mind hearing, and I don't know if I believe him yet because I've only known him for two days. I want this to become something very substantial, but I won't force things that aren't there. I hope this works out, I really do. And no matter what happens, I will always have these few beautiful days when things were pure and just beginning. This is a pretty good birthday.