sometimes i genuinely feel like i don't know how to be a real person - at least, not in the same way that some people can. r. and i went to this ball on saturday - the one where he was dancing with my friend's little sister. he had been training with her, and socializing with all these other rich austrians whose parents are Kind of a Big Deal, and it just all seemed so easy for him. they all loved him, and he made it work, and he did it all so confidently.

i tried to look the part, and nothing bad happened. my dress was just right; i didn't get too drunk; r.and i went exploring in the opera house and he appropriated a bottle of wine from an empty box; i told him i loved him after just the right amount of prosecco. but it is two days later and i feel like i'm still recovering. like i managed to keep it together until the ball was over, and now all of the anxiety i wasn't dealing with then has added itself to the papers i have to write (2x25p by next thursday), the exam i have to pass (oral exam on all american literature ever, same thursday), classes i have to teach in order to pay the rent, bills that i cannot pay no matter how much work i do.

i feel like i can't interact with adults because i am not acting like an adult, and when i tried to think about why r. likes (loves?) me more than his debutante dance partner, i honestly couldn't think of one thing that i knew for sure. i feel like i'm pms-ing even though i just had my period, like i need a vacation even though i just got back, like i'm hungry even though i've just eaten everything in the cupboard, and like i need a cigarette even though i've just smoked the whole pack. i feel like its the deepest, darkest, hardest, coldest part of winter, and i am desperately in need of some spring.