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12:56 p.m. - June 04, 2002 There's a big part of me that feels Spec knows me better than I know myself. He's been calling every day and the more frequent I speak to him the colder I become and at this point I'm unsure if I'm stubborn because that's me or if because I know what I want--or don't want. He inquired into a stuffed animal he got me a while back, asking if I still had it on my bed and I lied, telling him I had boxed it up, out of sight, out of mind. A stuffed animal is not a big deal and honestly it's embarrassing to say yes, I'd cuddle with this dog (for the record, it's a small Hank the Husky and Spec has a Tree [aside: I'm going to miss Stanford, large part because of the Tree and its silly environmental pretentiousness]), one example of a silly uber-Hallmark moment in the relationship. Point being, yeah, I still care for him profoundly, but are profound emotions enough for a relationship? I say no. I just can't get over the biological hump. I tried, opened up emotionally and physically and spiritually, made myself trust him and allow things to unfold, relished the freefall, but in the end didn't make it. If it was natural or blessed or meant to be in some small way, then it wouldn't have been so hard. Even now I wish Spec had a vagina instead of a penis. Wanted to vent.
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