December 26th. Thought gonna be around for a while.

She left for two and a half weeks in Paris and the French alps Thursday night.

It's been 41 and a half hours since I last heard from her, which I think is the probably the longest we've gone since July or maybe even June. I keep on over-thinking everything about everything (this letter, that letter, the third letter, the goodbye, the return, the time in between, for her and for me), which I'd forgotten about my tendency to do in the absence of actual contact. That may be the most dangerous aspect, like the cold of the water which kills you long before your legs give out. But I've been trying to keep tabs and caps on my thinking. So I'll just leave it at the dull lull of loneliness and try to focus on other things.

I should be getting more done, for instance. I told her if I didn't feel like I'd made enough of a change by the time she'd gotten back I'd call up my therapist again. I don't want to have to do that. And yet the reason I am the way I am is because it's what's easiest for me.

There's the protein issue, there's the Olympics issue, there's the job issue (no magazine puns, please) and also my new phone is a near constant-disappointment. Strange that something so much newer could be such a step back in terms of functionality in so many regards. But it looks nice, right? The struggles can be private. That's what I always look for in things: can it make me appear problem-free? Because I'm always better at solving problems when nobody's looking. I just need to be able to concentrate. That's why I turn my music off when I'm doing new things out in public, even though I keep my headphones on. I just need to be able to think.

Ironic.