she wants to get an apartment together after graduation.

“why not…were good friends, and it would save me from having to recruit some strange guy who could rape me, or some girl whos strange boyfriend could rape me. plus, youd have company and wed both save money. perfect solution.”

her voice was telling. her eyes were asking.

sure i said. of course nathalie, i love you, i thought.

chris popped his head through my doorway.

“so i hear you two are a couple now?”

nathalie starts laughing on my bed. she looks at me, answers my obvious question.

“you know miranda from starbucks? she asked me about you the other day. “

she took off her shoe.

“i told her youre my boyfriend.”

what.

“oh come on. she was drooling all over you. i was doing you a favor…i dont want her sinking her claws into your hide. and she thought it anyway, or she wouldnt have asked.”

thump goes the other shoe.

play it cool.

“what if i wanted her to sink her claws into my hide?”

she flopped onto my bed.

“trust me, i saved you. youll thank me later.”

breathe.

“in the future can i employ the same tactic where i see fit?”

she curled up with my pillow.

“you can save me whenever you want.”

how about now.

this journal leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and at first i couldnt put my finger on it.

i was never a great writer. but since the switch over from diary-x, the almost nonexistant quality of my entries decreased exponentially.

youd think it wouldnt matter. afterall, im supposed to be writing these entries just for myself. i shouldnt care what the entries sound like.

but this logic is flawed for two reasons. one, the purpose of this journal is to flush out of all my anxieties and worries by putting them forth onto, well, theoretical paper. but if i fail to do that efficiently…then i might as well have not bothered. two, ive been reading these past entries…and they really misrepresent me.

and i figured out the problem. i know why this journal is so different than the other ones in which ive written.

the comments feature.

i like knowing that my experiences mean something to someone else. its a nice feeling. but thats not the point.

at diary-x, i disabled the comments feature. i could happily write away, all the while pretending that no one was reading, even though i knew this to be incorrect.

i cant do that here. when i first created this journal, i tried to disable comments, but couldnt find a way. i was upset, but figured id get used to it.

i was wrong. knowing in the back of your mind that someone is reading is one thing. seeing proof is another.

its changed the way i write. i no longer write freely…as crazy as that sounds. i have an audience, and even subconsciously i now write to please them. this has not only changed the tone and elegance of my entries – i find that now theyre more contrived – but the frequency with which i post them. if i dont post, i feel im disappointing someone.

and i find that, in the back of my mind, im worried about what they think.

some online journals may be a great window into someones life. mine isnt. its a keyhole. and all that someone sees through it is a cliche.

cool, confident guy on the outside. tormented by depression and love on the inside. part of its true…but theres so much more.

obviously i wasnt expecting to be able to portray my full self in these entries. this journal is about nathalie. and thoughts of her do take up 90 percent of my daily brain activity, thats true. but even she is more complex than these words make her out to seem. its just not working.

the idea itself that i feel the need to clarfiy all of this is unsettling. an obvious truth disguised as a secretive fact.

there has to be a way to correct all of this.

“so, you gonna tell her now?”

chris plopped down on my bed.  god damn it.

“i thought i told you i didnt want to talk about this. ever.”

he shifted and looked out the window.

“you know youre running out of time.”

a pause.

“yeah, i suppose i am.”

“well nows as good a time as any, isnt it? youre not as sick anymore, and you two have been really close lately. getting along well. jeremy, if you wait too much longer…”

i held my breath.

“shes going to slip through your fingers. and shes going to take your heart with her.”

i still havent exhaled.

im actually happy.

im afraid to exhale.

nathalie went shopping today for some things she needed.

she came back with a huge smile on her face.

“oh my god, i got you a present.”

she pulled out a pair of these really expensive looking leather boots.

“theyre chelsea boots” she almost shouted.

“i love guys who wear chelsea boots. so classy. i always imagined they were the type of boots sherlock holmes would have worn.”

i laughed. shes so sweet.

she sighed.

“i should have been born a guy.”

i told her she wouldnt be nearly as pretty then.

she didnt say anything.
i put them on and waltzed around the room for her. she was laughing so hard.

“theyre perfect.”

i love you so much.
i think its time i do something amazing for you.

is she.

she came back last night.

i didnt expect her at all. it was a wonderful surprise.

it was around midnight when i woke up to a bunch of noise.

she sort of half smiled. sort of a sad smile.

“i tried not to wake you.”

i must have looked like an idiot. all i could do was grin.

hugging her then was like nothing ive ever felt before.

my god i love her.

and shes back.

it was storming last night pretty badly.

i couldnt sleep so i started to read.

then the phone rang.

“hello?”

“hi”

i was so excited to hear her voice.

“i just called…i wanted to tell you something.”

i waited.  there was a long pause.

her voice came back shaky.

“i appreciate you.”

i didnt understand.

a loud clap of thunder. the phone went dead.

no more reading. no more nathalie.

im not sure why. but i cried myself to sleep.

she called today just to say hi.

i love her voice.

it was like a cool breeze after a heat wave.

thank god for phones.