[worry worry]
Today has been filled with worry. Worry about grades, worry about Sam, worry about Dave, worry about myself, worry about Taylor, worry about Hanna, worry about... Well, I'm sure there's more. I guess I've straighted the Dave situation out with Sam, but as for Dave himself - thats a different story. He called me today. Every time he calls, my heart sinks, because I know that the more this happens, the harder it will be for him to realize that we can't be together. And we can't. Not now, and probably not ever. He lives in Washington for Christ's sake! I'm 17. Seven-Fucking-Teen. I'm not going to do this long distance thing. Plus, I've got Sam. Well, I don't have Sam... But Sam and I are clearly heading in that direction, unless something goes terribly wrong.
It's funny; I can see myself with both of them. Not simultaneously, of course. But either way, I'd be in for the long haul. Especially with all of these things Sam's been saying. "Is 'I love you' a compliment?" God my heart raced so fast. I can't handle that now. I'm not ready for that.
Sam doesn't want me to move out to Oregon. Specifically, he doesn't want to lose me. Even if we're not technically 'together,' he's already grown attatched. More worry here. I want to go back. I don't want to hurt Sam. He doesn't need that. I don't need the guilt. I guess I shouldn't think too much about it, we've got another year of high school, and lots can happen in a year.
On a lighter note, my Pickard wishes came true! No, not sexual, romance wishes. I don't have those, sillies. He gave out composition journals, and basically we're to write in them about... Well, whatever. And thats pretty much our class now. I love it. Plus, we're doing a college application essay and reviewing grammar. I'm very pleased with this news, and this class. Too bad my grade dropped again and my Great Gatsby essay was a POS. Bah.