Dear Boy Who I Think I Could Never Have A Chance With But Everyone Else Thought You Like/Liked Me But I Have Ignored It For Like 5 Years And Now Have A Long-Term Boyfriend,

I've had it bad for you for so long now. The "what-ifs" haunt me. Almost constantly. You're the boy every parent wants her daughter to date (and then marry). I've always told myself that I wasn't good enough for you. You're the pastor's son. But even when I turned into a preacher's daughter, I still thought I didn't have what you need. So I went through a ton of heartbreak, trying to find someone else. And now I've been with my boyfriend for over a year and a half. And I love him, so, so much. And I see a future with him, and we're working towards that. But sometimes I wonder, while I'm crying because my boyfriend is unsupportive, or when I walk into church on Sunday with him after we've had some stupid arguement (like we do most Sundays), if I should've given you and me a chance anyway. If I'm making a mistake in planning a future with my boyfriend instead of you.

I know I'm only human, and I'm sure a lot of people have felt this way towards someone. But I still feel bad every time my mind starts to wonder to those annoying "what-ifs" that most of the time I can ignore. But now this thing has happened in my family, something that you could most likely help me through due to it's close-to-home nature... While my boyfriend isn't very tactful and quite insensitive about the whole thing. And when I saw you today, the emotions came in waves.

I just wanted to write you this letter. To tell you that I care for you. And always have. And that I'm sorry if there was ever a time where you felt the same and I ignored you. It was never you, it's always been me--my insecurities and fears--that have caused us to never be together. But I have this boy who I love in my life now, and unless something happened (which I can't even imagine), you and I will never have that chance.

With [much] love,
Me.

As of tomorrow I'll be entering my 5th quarter of college [is that technically a year? No? Yes? Whatever], and I'm completely indifferent. When I started out last spring, I figured it'd be fine. I knew what I was going to school for, and I knew what cores I needed, I had loans to pay for it, and so on. I've always had a love-hate relationship with school, and once I was in my last two years of high school...I just wanted to be out. So I chose to do an associates in my major of choice--commercial photography--so that I could get in and get out in two years or less. I just want to get my piece of paper that says "She knows what she's doing. Hire her." and start my business. But once I started my actual program last fall, all of my assumptions and confidence got a square kick in the ass. That first quarter was centered around using film cameras...and I won't go into detail but it did a serious number on me. It was something I wasn't familiar with, and though I tried, I just couldn't produce one decent photo the entire quarter. One of my professors even made me cry during finals ["These look like tourist shots. Like my mom got out her little disposable and took them in a hurry as they drove down the road."]. And now, after only having two quarters of the program, I'm having to take my last core and electives this Spring...no photography classes...because of failing at least three classes in the past two quarters. So here I am, the night before a new quarter, having to constantly remind myself that I have school tomorrow because it's snuck up on me after only a week between it and last quarter, and because honestly, I just don't care anymore.

We'll see where this quarter takes me, I suppose.

Some of you may have seen my post from around September called "Confessions of a Now Not-Virgin." Well, now I bring you this chapter in my life.
In my last post I expressed how jumbled my emotions were. How much I was thinking about the whole situation...and possibly even having doubts to whether or not I was even ready for that next step in my relationship. The first week of January I brough a proposal to my boyfriend. One that took a lot of thought, and courage on my part, to present.

"I don't want to have sex anymore...or at least not this year."

The reason I was so afraid to say this is because I was so worried that he'd be angry with me. I have tried so hard to be a much better girlfriend to him than his crazy exes, and I know that with-holding sex from your boyfriend is pretty much one of the worst things you can do. [And one of our friends has this girlfriend who uses sex against him, and will take it away if she doesn't get what she wants sometimes!] I didn't want to be one of "those girlfriends", but I felt like my decision was legit. I want to enjoy engaging in physical activities with my boyfriend...and the guilt and pressure and emotional torrents I was feeling was preventing that. This is how the conversation went:
"I don't want to have sex anymore...or at least not this year."
"Okay. Can I ask why?"
"I just...wasn't ready for it."
"Well I wish you would've said this sooner. It's been since like, what, September?"
*End of conversation*

We've talked about it a little since then...but I can't really remember anything other than he ended it with, "I don't want to talk about this anymore." He says that we can wait as long as I need to...but I know that he feels negatively about the situation. And I hate that. And now I'm facing the guilt of taking something that he enjoys away from him, even if I think it's best.