Limbo

That's very odd. I feel like a giddy seventeen-year-old texting back and forth, and it's all good, and then in person I become awkward and shy and can't make eye contact and I don't know what to do with that. I suppose I've got him shaped a bit differently in my mind's eye. But I really do think I like him. Well. I like the words, the laughs. I like the written communication.

It's really odd. I was seventeen last time I thought of things like this, and it's all a bit odd.