Funny how one well-placed phone call and lighten my heart right up.

There I was, just lounging in bed, reading silly used books and giggling to myself, when all of a sudden, my phone began to buzz. It was James (who else would call so late? who else would call, period?).

We comiserated for a bit about heartbreak, academia and living and breathing, and somehow, it makes me feel better. His voice, three time zones away has a quality I can't quite find the words for, but it helps me smile. An easy smile. I think I'm falling in love with him. Again. Oh, darling, am I throwing myself into that blender of love? Again?

Probably. I've never been one to be pragmatic about love, often to my own detriment. I still hope that at some point my fast and loose heart will land somewhere safe. Why I think it will be with James is beyond me. Oh, pish posh, you know just why. I admire his insides, and his dreams and his frustration with himself. He's honest in a way I find charming and endearing. And depressed, maybe melencoly is a better word, in a way that resonated with me, deeply.

I shouldn't question the way I feel, I suppose. I only hope this isn't some tactic in my head more than in my heart to avoid my feelings about The Breakup. Ah, it may be, partially. But I've loved James for a long time. Longer than he knows, and certainly longer than I've been willing to admit. My first heartbreak came out of his clumsiness. I've forgiven that. I won't forgive another one, I'm afraid. I wouldn't be able to.

We looked at the sky together. How cliched. It works though. My little heart jumps when I think of it. What a boy. What a situation. We are quite the pair.

Sleep now. Passport and finals tomorrow.