fuck yeah

Sooo today is our third month anniversary of being together (yay go us) and I totally forgot which is so embarrassing because usually I'm the one who remembers times and dates and whatnot except my class schedules which seem to erase themselves from my memory every night.
Anyway this is great. As in, I still love him. And that's not as obvious as you'd expect it to be. My last few boyfriends never made it past the three-month-deadline except D who doesn't count because I was basically desperately clinging onto a idolised memory of someone I hadn't seen for a year. But here I am - here we are - all lovey-dovey and shit. I love it. I love it so much and I'm so happy. I'm truly genuinely happy.

Speaking of happy, I had an awful feeling yesterday that the Sads were coming back, thank God it was a false alarm. I refuse to let them get to me. I fucking refuse to. It's so unbelievably tiresome, not only to me but the people around me (well, the ones who know about the Sads and in front of whom I don't pretend to be okay). It may be egoistic of me to vent the Sads in front of said people, but I just can't keep up the spiel all the time. At least they don't freak out because they know what's up. Anyway, the bad feels haven't kicked in so it's okay.

We're taking part in a sled race on Sunday, can't wait. It will be fucking awesome and we'l all probably break our necks at some point, but as the twelve-year-old peasants on the internet say: #yolo

/P.