Curious

I don't know what's wrong, but something is.  Not with me, not with Teddy, but with Ace.  (BTW, did I ever mention that Teddy and Ace are roommates?)  Anyway, I guess he walked into their room a bit ago, "bawling his eyes out", and not willing to talk.  I really hope he's okay.
It seems I never write unless something is wrong.  I find it difficult to write when everything is so wonderful.  Everything IS wonderful - for me and Teddy.  We've talked about getting married.  I know, imagine - me in love.  So in love that marriage talk doesn't scare me off.  I never imagined this would happen... and certainly not with him, but it has, and I've never been happier.

He's wonderful.

From now on, Salvio's name will be Teddy.  I think it fits him.  People are noticing how happy I look.  I can't believe how happy I am.

Time to talk...

Lemme tell you a secret...
No, two secrets.
1. I am in love.  And not just in love, I love him.  Salvio's pretty amazing.  I don't like the name I gave him though.  I'm going to change it when I find something that fits him.
2. There is a blog I follow simply so that I can scorn him in my head when I read his posts.  At first glance, he's one of those "let's help people" people, but after a while you realize how much he thinks of himself, and after that everything he writes is just... "uggh, listen to him go on."  I enjoy it.  That is horrible of me, but I can't be all good.

But I meant it.

I've never been so irrationally terrified for someone.  Salvio was going to meet me at the coffee shop.  And...
Just as I was writing that, he showed up.  Talk about irrational.  Me, I mean.  Last night, we were talking on FB and he asked if I'd gotten all my feelings sorted out yet.  I asked him why, had he?  He said yes, pretty much.  I told him yes, but I wanted to see his face when I told him.  So we met at chapel and skipped out.  Went to the music building.  He played piano, while I stared at my notebook and tried to think of something to draw.  I had so much nervous energy and nothing to do with it.  Finally I gave up drawing and started writing.  I don't remember everything I wrote, and I know that at the beginning I wasn't going to show it to him.  I remember the end - "... I think maybe I love you."  I decided to show it to him then.  I tore the page out of the notebook, handed it to him, and sat down on the piano bench with my hair falling over my face, waiting to find out how he would react.  I didn't see his face.  I wish I had.  But he came over, kissed me, and said, "Me too."
I can't believe how crazy I've gone over this guy.