I have spent the majority of the last two days running outside with toddlers: daisy-picking, breaking up fights, refereeing sharing, playing soccer for all of two minutes (one kicks the ball and the other throws it), various falls and the occasional tumble and tantrum. The deck in our backyard was super hot today from the sun, and so when Mom pulled out the hose to fill the pool up some, I used it on the deck to cool off the kids' feet. They thought it was the coolest thing in the history of ever, and I was cool-by-proxy. I've got that kind of tired that comes after being in the sun all day, but things are still knocking around in my head so I get them down.

There is also just something about how young children talk that makes everything they say sound adorable. Even things like "Don't sit on the popcorn!," etc.

I wonder how much of this is written for me, and how much of it is written for others. When I started this blog, it was written as an outlet until I scrounged up the courage to go to counseling on-campus. It was written as an outlet for everything I couldn't tell Fin, because it's difficult to share your problems with someone when that person is so much of the problem. Plus, when they're saying "You really need to see someone, you should really consider counseling" and then they take your going to counseling and meaning you make them your reason for anyt--

Not going down that road. I was actually going over things last night before I fell asleep (the one time I really can't avoid it), and I actually said to myself "I'm fucking sick of going over this. It was months ago. You don't matter in his life, stop letting him matter in yours." I talked about it with my mom briefly tonight, brought her up to speed on the situation--I thought she was out of town when I found out The Awful Troof, otherwise I would've called her because no one can help a broken heart quite like a mother.

My mom has met Fin for maybe all of five minutes, from that time he dropped me off and walked me to the door and met Erika and that other time he picked me up so we could babysit Cecilia. And she basically said everything it took me eight months to admit: commitment issues, something about an 18 year old dating a 14 year old is just off, and he continually goes for relationships that are "safe:" the aforementioned age difference, or being in Ontario for the summer while his girlfriend is in New Brunswick.

I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm not writing this for anybody but me, for the most part. It's a diary more than anything, really. And because sometimes, I'm not sure how to word things properly to one person in particular, so I just write as though I'm writing for nobody and then things come out right. If not right, at least not stuck in my head. More than anything, I grow tired of the same few lines running through my head: "would you stop obsessing over him?" "I had fallen in love with you last semester" "other than my mother and sister, you've been the most influential woman in my life" "I hadn't even started to test you yet" "I will break you just to see what it does to you and those around you" "Just eat something" "You've probably noticed something is wrong in our family," etc.