It's been a hell of a week for me.

I'm trying hard to adjust to the lack of personal space, the constant fatigue, the urge to meet as many people as I can because I don't feel like I trust anyone yet. The thing about living with people is that things progress far more quickly than they would if you were still at home and weren't surrounded by them 24 hours a day. J and I broke it off.

Our "romance" lasted a mere three days. But this was unlike all of the other stupid things I have been a part of. I think we handled it maturely, with no name calling, no door slamming, no sappy songs and no chocolate bars to ease the pain. There wasn't a lot of pain, really. When I first met him I knew I liked him, and he said he felt the same way about me. It's not like we disagreed or hated each other or anything else. We both care for each other, but he's 18 and so am I and this is the first week of college and even though I'd love to have a good steady relationship there's this primitive side of me that's telling me to go out and get whatever I can and do whatever I want and talk to lots of guys and get their numbers and go to clubs with them and drink and smoke weed and take Vicodin and do lots of other irresponsible shit that I'll regret in the morning but I feel obligated to experience because after all, it's college. And he feels the same way. After a brief talk yesterday, we came to the conclusion that this happened at the wrong time, that if it would have been five months from now it would have been great, and, as he put it, "I still think you're the most awesome girl here, I just need to fuck around with a lot of bitches to realize that." Maybe that sounds cheap and feeble and maybe I should be calling him shallow but I'm not, because for once I feel the same way, and for once I don't care about having a boyfriend and getting married and for once in my life I'm in a place where the entire student body won't know if you sleep with a guy on your first date, or if you were bad at giving head, or if he talks with his mouth open and has an oddly shaped organ. Because there's always someone else you can find who meets your requirements for what an acceptable companion should be, and to stick to one person and one person only is just too much to ask of a bunch of testosterone driven kids. And I'm ok with it.

When I was walking to my classes today I felt this freedom, like I could talk to anyone and he could talk to anyone and I wouldn't have to worry. I'm used to being free, not having to answer to anyone, and I like it. J and I will still hang out from time to time, and he said he'd even take me out on dates, and even if he doesn't go through with it the world won't come to an end. I've made a lot of friends who live on the same floor as he does. They're probably the funniest guys I've ever met, and right now I'm happy because I actually have a place to go when I'm bored. I still really, really like J a lot. But I've learned to like someone and accept the fact that I might never see them again. I dunno. I guess this, like all things, will pass in time. I can't say that I'm really sad or heartbroken. It was just something that happened, and it wasn't meant to happen, and like the sophisticated adults we are, we talked it over and decided it was best if we give each other space but keep things on good terms. If he ever does want to start anything again, I'd love to continue where we left off. But for now, I'm fine with everything the way it is, and I've learned a valuable lesson. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I learned something...whatever.