Angela's Journal, 10/24 [Private Entry]

[chasingangela]

So things with Marty? Not. Getting. Easier. Dammit.

This was a weird, weird, not-good weekend.

To start with -- went to Rory's party Friday. Sort of flirted with Geoff. I really don't mean anything by it, but ... he's cute, and it felt good to be lonely with him, you know? (Side note: Logan was a bunny. Not even thinking about it, not even thinking about it.)

Mistake. Marty noticed and walked out. (I think that's, like, his gift.) I had to chase after him, and ... apparently we still love each other, but we can't get back together now. Which is right, but ... still hurts. A lot.

Late Saturday we went over to Mr. Phale's with Parker. Found out some interesting stuff on the big 'lussie project. Also got thoroughly creeped out by Phale's friend Crowley. He said some really, really nasty stuff about me.

Also? Apparently Mr. Phale is, literally, an angel, and Crowley is, literally, a demon. I can't even wrap my brain around that. At least they claim they're helpful... though I have my doubts.

After we got home, M. and I hung out in the common room for a while. Watched a Marilyn Monroe movie. We managed to seriously have a friendly conversation, and things were okay with us at the Plotting Zoo too. (Well, okay with us except I had this, like, overdose of curiosity, and Marty could speak only in lines from '80's movies. But ... Fandom. Okay is relative.)

Then last night he came by my room and .... he kissed me. And it was nice. And it made me cry because it doesn't even fucking matter, it's just this thing that will always be there.

Then I wake up this morning and find this in the paper:

As if they haven’t had enough angst, Security Officer Marty and soulful redhead Angela have broken up. Neither seems happy about it, but please don’t suggest they should hurry up and get back together. Please.


As if we don't have reasons Beka Valentine can't know.

Thanks, Beka.

Don't even want to think about Ethics Class. I'm paired with some kid Archie. I'm a master. Freaking bizarre. I might not even do it.

At least our journalism project is done.