My favorite number

88 is my favorite number. It represents double-infinity. See, if you turn one 8 90 degrees sideways, it beccomes the symbol for infinity. 8 is also Andy's favorite number, but who gives, right? Right. Anyway, I like 88, because it's not just a single infinity. To have it twice means 2 people have an infinity together. Also, it's the year I was born. I often feel like 1988 was the last year of good people. I see it in some of my friends, who are younger, that they are just soo different! They are less family-based, more surrounded by friends, they text all the time, they party, drink, smoke.. all that crap. They have a different relationship to teachers or other students. They speak more freely, more intiutuve rather than thoughtful... I don't know, I can't sound it out, it's weird.
But 88 is my favorite number and I felt like writing about it.
It's been a week since we've spoken. I find myself missing him less and less. I hope that that's not just a phase. I want it to stick. I mean, sure, I think about him a lot, but it's not so painful anymore. It doesn't physically hurt anymore to decide to NOT sign onto my instant messenger. I don't have to consciously make that decision anymore, I just don't do it. Today, I've worked on my reaction to "California King Bed" by Rihanna... Not pleased with it, yet. I can't help it, it tears me apart and I want to curl up in a litte dust-ball! No crying, just choking. Don't know which is worse. And going to bed is.. well, it's been difficult all along, but I remember him telling me about that in the very beginning that, one you've had someone else sleeping in the same bed, you find it hard to sleep alone in the future. So true. SO true. Every night I walk into my room, I'm sad that my bed is empty. Ohhh well. I cuddle my pillow. It'll be alright.