1997, without the madness

quote of the evening:

Rhett Butler: you need kissing, badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.

and i was. and by someone who knows how.

my sister informed me when we got home, that i will never be as good a christian as the types that i consort with, but that she's glad about that, because my life still is real and still makes sense. not sure how much that is true, or how much i would want it to be true. she is adamant that i can't rule out a future with The Boy. i beg to differ little lady. he likes me in so many of the right ways. he's good for me in alot of the right ways. if only he loved jesus....but then, who can honestly say that jesus himself isn't sitting there thinking..if only she (na) loved me...i can't judge how much someone loves him or wants to follow his ways. but i do hope that he will make my own way clear.

dear reader, please forgive the forray into the rude and vaguely lustful tones of the last two posts. it seems somewhat out of blog-character. i feel its important though. and aside from the recent random and unwelcome automated comments, this remains after all, my last bastion of honesty and processing.

i'm not sorry for it, i'm glad its happened, and i truly feel like that is it now, for me and The Boy. goodbyes said, wished granted, imaginings put to rest.

the queen bee is off to hibernate in manchester..