Although it's not really about Richard at all, but the "is he gonna call or isn't he?" stuff has brought a lot of these issues up for me.

I don't often like being alone. I'm okay with it if I've got a full plate on my table, plans every night, and then one night I get to come home early and crash and hang out with Laika and watch Court TV. That kind of alone is usually okay - I do like some down time.

But if I don't have plans for more than a day or two in a row, I get antsy. Uncomfortable. Restless. Frantic. I sit at home and feel dissatisfied and know that I should do my laundry or sort and file my paperwork or change cat litter or vacuum the rug, but instead I more often than not read a book or watch TV or call friends or call Brian and Keith or Andi and Doron and invite myself over. One, because I love the company, I love spending time with people and friends and chatting and laughing and talking about serious stuff and just being with them. But I think I also just want to avoid the loneliness in my head and heart, the void that I'm afraid rests deep in my soul.

Okay, that's a bit melodramatic, which I'm good at. But I do feel really bad at being alone. I do well in groups. I do well when part of a romantic couple. Well, the Louis thing doesn't count; I didn't do well when I was with him at all. And that's relevant. I don't want to glom onto someone in a romantic way because I don't want to be alone. But I do want companionship, love, passion, etc., etc. I'm not sure yet how to reconcile the two. How do I become more comfortable being alone? How do I lessen the anxiety of "ohmygodisthathim" (no matter who he is) every time the phone rings? How do I stop feeling like Lisa Simpson addicted to the Corey Hotline? (I do hope someone out there gets that.)

I hate talking about this, actually. It feels like a moral failing. I feel like I should be 100% independent and happy in my own company, and the fact that I'm not makes me weak and clingy, etc., etc. Maybe I'm just a social creature, and that's okay... and that might be true, but I think that there's something deeper going on, some hole that I want to fill (and not like that, you pervert - yes, I mean you!), and I don't know what to do with it.

Just for ha-ha's sake:

Scary! I wouldn't do the 80s again if someone paid me!!