This explains my life. I am tired of hoping because many miles from here, in beautiful Portugal, lives the man who makes my insides churn. Distance prevents me from starting anything deeper than a relationship based on friendship and here I am, miserable knowing that my affections are not being given wholly to my boyfriend because I have tasted from a far greater source. I miss you. I attempt to disentangle this cobweb of confusion. In vain I try to find traces of Peter's romantic streak in my boyfriend and go so far as to idealize the minor qualities my boyfriend possesses in hopes of cutting my liking for Peter. It does not do good to dwell on such foolishness but making comparisons are inevitable. If only I had not been presented to this idea that somewhere someone in the world could make me yearn for something more than just lazy days watching movies and childish calls. That passion for something more than what I possess has awakened in me areas I did not think existed. Life is wondrous and my bleak outlook is vanquished. And I find it funny that by the same token, the hope that there is more to life has elevated me to utter bliss yet grounded me in desperation. Let time run its course and i will surely follow because I have resolved to not simply HOPE. The word HOPE connotes a tinge of last resorts and makes company with loneliness and sorrow. It connotes having life controlled by external forces. To this I say no. Life's path will be shaped by my actions. Nothing more and nothing less. To a better future!