The weekend was an amazing mixture of high highs and low lows. I saw Dorian on Saturday night with Alyssa and Chrissy; it was one of the most amazing productions I've ever seen, and everyone should go to it. I think it's $25 on weekdays and $30 on weekends at the Bailiwick. If you can make it, go!

We took quite a few pictures, although most of them were taken when we were in Evanston just chilling with Alyssa. Her place is in a beautiful neighborhood, and we went to a local pizza place on Sunday night before heading back.

Zhora has pretty much cut all ties with me, I think. It was difficult to tell, not only because of the language barrier, but also because I couldn't contribute very much to the conversation; I didn't really know what to say -- not out of any shock, or really upset, but just... ignorance, I suppose. He says that I have been taking my relationship with him far too seriously, and it makes him uncomfortable. Is that a "Let's stop having sex and I'll see you when I see you"? Is that "Let's keep having sex but don't think of me as anything but a friend with benefits"? Is that "I'm really not that physically attracted to you, and you're a bit obnoxious; I will avoid you in the future and wipe all evidence of you from my memory"? Is that "I like you a lot but I'm scared of being hurt"? I just don't know. He's a bit of a confusing creature.

So, he said this, and I said that was fine. He asked me if he seemed like a serious guy, and I politely told him what he wanted to hear, which was of course "No". I sat and had a few cigarettes silently before I started to cry, but I only cried for about sixty-five miles, and Zhora drives at a steady 80 on I-55. I'm sure I made it awkward and horrible for him. At one point, we stopped for gas, and when he got back in the car, he said my name. I asked, "Yes?" -- he paused for a moment and then said, "You're not okay..." and then nothing until I got out of the car. I got a "See ya". Hmm, as I think about it, this doesn't sound very good at all.

I suppose he's right in many ways. I'm certainly not trying to hate on myself, but Zhora is used to a very different lifestyle, and very different (read as: gorgeous) girls. As I said, his ex-girlfriend, Ira, looks so beautiful -- I must be a disappointment to him in many ways. I'm not comparatively well-traveled, and it doesn't matter that I'm well-read. And, honestly, I have been taking this too seriously; Zhora hasn't known me for very long, and he's not in a good place to be having relationships anyway. I should be happy that he made a good and mature decision for himself.

What's strange about the whole thing is that he went out of his way to tell me that he will be sticking around here if his boss promotes him, which is what his boss is probably going to do. Why would he say such a thing? The night before, while we were in bed, he told me that he would go out to Colorado to live (yet another place! Almost every single day, he has new longterm plans). For some reason, I was very exasperated and in a terrible mood, and so I cried a little, but just a little, and it was so quiet, I thought he didn't notice. I wish I didn't cry so easily. He must think I'm a big drama queen.

Perhaps he has realized that we have very little in common. He's certainly a novelty for me, but I don't pride myself on being very novel to others, especially not someone like him. I feel bad that I've made a situation so awkward; now Vtalik feels bad because he wants to spend time with Chrissy, who wants to spend time with me. I hope he keeps talking to Zhora regularly; he needs a good friend, and Vtalik is a very good person.

I suppose I am upset. Classes today were a blur; I couldn't focus, even though so much of it was a bit interesting. Phil took me to eat downstairs before our Human Sexuality class and then walked me to that and sat with me. We didn't really talk about much because I don't know him very well; I think he mostly came up to see Teryn, anyway -- she was in class.

I'm going with Chrissy to do our usual stuff after four. Pool, Chad's, and then home for me to pack a little bit more, and to get my credit straightened out. I think I'm over the limit or something.

I'm quite certain that I will be single for a long time. I've been told that my standards are rather low, but when I think about the people I've dated and now slept with, it's hard for me to agree. I'm more fascinated in people than they are interested in me, and the bitterness I feel because of that makes me clingy and hard to deal with. Perhaps, then, my standards are far too high, at least subconsciously. Consciously, it's hard for me to think that I couldn't find someone who would be very happy with me, and that I could be satisfied with also. Physical appearance means so little to me -- it is one of my few and true purely good qualities. I judge people by how they talk to me, and what their story is -- which isn't to say that I don't enjoy sex with attractive people, because that is very nice. But it isn't something I need or necessarily desire in the long run.

My mission for the summer, then, was a successful failure, in that I entered into one of the most laid back sexual interactions I've ever even dreamed of entering into, but still managed to make my partner uncomfortable with the level of forced intimacy. Ah, I have my work cut out for me; nobody likes a desperate woman.

---