Computer crash.
My laptop now boots from the CD drive cause the C drive seems physically damaged. I should take advantage of the time while he’s gone to figure out exactly how linux works. Now it’s running on Knoppix, which has a mad cool interface (try it!) and which I stupidly bought/dled as a “Fujitsu Lifebook S7110 Data recovery CD” for like 9 pounds (haven’t figured out symbols in linux either). It does NOT recover any of my data, but instead the download was for the Knoppix OS, which is freely available on the web. It’s cute, but booting from CD takes forever of course, and even though my computer was partitioned my math folder is (i should say “was”) on C, which is completely inaccessible. My theory is that somebody stepped on it at the Christmas do I had at my house. I mean, I know somebody stepped on it, and it had been running basically fine up till then, when it froze in the middle of Home Alone 1 which all the boys requested to watch. More specifically, there was a general consensus at dinner that we should all watch the last half an hour of every single Home Alone to see Macaulay Culkin pwn the bad guyz.

But all this blathering on is just a ruse.
A ruse to disguise the effects of parting. ‘Effects’ is a good word. First to mind are those little physical things that are now strewn all over my house, evidence of our little nest. A vase of irises he bought for me. A bucket of popcorn given to us (incidentally from the murderer of my laptop). Triominos all over the carpet from the last time I thrashed him at it. Dishes in the sink. Leftovers in my fridge. And next, the canvas is awash with other colours, colours of tears and loneliness, also effects of parting. One thing that is especially prominent this time around is how much more my friends (here) are sensitive to his parting. Many of them who have seen how close we are, are afraid that I’ll be… lonely after he leaves, and have offered to have sleepovers and christmas eve parties, and to help finish up my leftovers. I am kind of glad that there are some girls here I click with. Nice, funny, intelligent girls, who are of the race of Joseph.

I don’t know what to feel. Should I be lonely? If I am, is it justified? Just because I have been part of two should not imply that one cannot exist by itself. Because I still enjoy my own company, there is no reason to have to depend on other people to be unlonely. What exactly is it that I miss then? The only way I knew how to eat a year ago was by myself, because I couldn’t stomach everyone else’s banal dinner-time conversation. There is only so much of your winter break plans and spring break plans and summer break plans you can talk about. I’ll have to find that part of me again.

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