Journal Entry #  3    Date:    Novermber 24, 2002
Entry Title: Breathe in, and out
You know, my boyfriend is pretty alright.  I've always been the person who isn't so anxious to open my heart or express my feelings.  I'm not cold, just cautious, and very private.  I've always held the belief that I could handle all my problems by myself.  I'm not too sure why I've kept the belief for so long since it really hasn't helped all that much.  In fact, it has probably contributed to my current state of depression.  But enough about about me for at least the next sentence; on to my boyfriend. 

He came over today around noon (and this after he left at 10 because he slept over; yes, I know we can be pathetic).  Anyway, he was over and we started talking about people and life in general.  And just in the way the direction the conversation was going, it started to depress me.  And I really felt like I needed to cry, which is a big deal for me who probably hasn't cried since Bush Sr. was president.  And, of course, under my belief, I couldn't very well cry in front of someone else, this would be a cardinal sin.  So I told him he should leave, but he said he didn't want to.  He stayed, and I went to lay in bed (at least then he couldn't see me if I let out some tears).  But then he came over and laid in bed next to me.  He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly while I cried.  And he only left once, and that was to get me more Kleenex.  What a guy.  I don't know how long I cried, but when I finished, he just laid there with me.  I was completely exhausted and he was there, holding me, stroking my hair, gently kissing my face.  I didn't look at him much since my face was buried in his chest, but the one time I did, I saw him crying.  Crying for me, for seeing me in pain. 

After a while, he said I couldn't keep my feelings in, it wasn't healthy and I needed to talk and get whatever was on my mind out.  So talk I did.  I talked for hours, about anything and everything.  I told him about myself, my family, my problems and fears.  I talked on and on and he kept listening until I was finished.  He didn't pass judgement or really say anything for that matter, he just held me until I was okay again and then we moved on.  He didn't mention it the rest of the time he was over at my place, and that was exactly what I needed.  And you know what, I feel a lot better.

On a personal note to Sam: You don't know I keep this online journal, so you'll probably never read this.  But I just wanted to say thank you anyway.  I didn't think anybody could care that much, and I certainly didn't think I'd find it.  And I love you for giving it to me.
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