They're inside you.

Mine have been giving me an uncomfortable sense of tension when around him, and since it's getting closer to the end of the semester, stress levels are rising. I'm helpless, as usual. I have never hated an alarm clock as much as I have while sharing a bed with him, not to mention the point at which I become the alarm clock and subsequently lose sleep--because he can't get himself up because he's too tired because he fell asleep an hour ago because he can't get himself to sleep.

I sound like the fucking Wizard of Oz--Because because because because because...

Thankfully he's been sleeping more, though out of sheer exhaustion rather than the desire to cease to feel like shit. Whatever works, I suppose. My gut is making me nervous about some awkward silences, my gut is filling me with dread.

I don't want to bitch about our relationship, because it's great. I'm just uncomfortable with myself sometimes, and I fear that he's mirroring that, or something. I have never loved a guy as much as I love that stubborn boy sleeping above me this very moment, and it's reciprocated to me through kisses and gestures and glorious sex, but my doubt gnaws at my insides.

Fuck, well anyway. I don't have anything useful to say because my mind's too preoccupied--not that this journal's for anything useful. Just my ranting, worrying, aching, angsting.

But that's nothing new, is it?

Booked a $320 win last night. The confidence is starting to return, though it's a bit nerve-wracking to have an all-in called by a cally-wally on a board of J-T-2-9 when all you have is an overpair. My $320 win couldn't hold a candle to SoxLover, who turned $300 into over $1,000 in an hour and ten minutes by catching every single draw he flopped and getting paid on all of them. Must be nice.

At least my singing at the poker table annoyed him. Have I mentioned how much I like to sing at the poker table? Only about a dozen times, I think -- but I've never mentioned how annoying most other people find it. The implied tilt odds are through the roof.

Karaoker, kids. It's the sport of the future. [Note: Karaoker has not been endorsed by Don "the Dragon" Wilson.]

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