Apology accepted.

Whew. Actually. It's 1:49 a.m. and I'm not tired at all. This blogging thing feels amazing. I love being able to write down all of my thoughts. Reading through them later always seems to provide me with a new discovery about myself. Especially when I'm in a bind and need to just bitch and whine for a while. Afterward, I can read my complaints, discard the ones that aren't useful, and actually solve the problem.
Back to this mini-autobiography and psychoanalysis of the one and only, Romanov. By the way, my real name is not Romanov. The Romanov family is Catherine the Great's family. And I'm far from a history buff. It's my trail name on the Appalachian Trail, so it seemed like a good one to use for a blog alias.
Soccer was going pretty well. JV was a lot of fun. And the coach is the coolest small bald man I've ever met. At that point in time, the actual game of soccer was not something I valued the team for at all. I mean it was fun to play, yeah, but it didn't really mean anything to me at the time. The real value of that team was the friends I made.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm saying wayyy to many things that sound like average inspired person things to say. I'm also wondering if that made any sense...
Drunk boy is apparently not actually drunk. I'm not sure if I believe him, but he just told me that he is actually just "patiently waiting for the next update". It sent a wave of warm-and-fuzzy through my tummy. :) I honestly didn't expect him to be so interested in my life story.
Come spring break of my sophomore year, I hiked a section of the Appalachian Trail for that week. I was dating a kid who is half Cuban. And I'm not talking about the small brown men with funny looking mustaches. This guy is attractive. Anyway, the trip was my first long trip (longer than a weekend). This trip was also one of the most enlightening experiences I've ever had. It was the beginning of my relationship with the only lover I have ever been able to keep for over 2 months. And we're still going strong! :]
Being away from public society for a week was amazing. I-... am having a really hard time figuring out how to describe the feelings I'm thinking of. At one point in one of the days, I drifted to about halfway between the faster half of the group and the slower half. Neither of the groups were visible or audible. Complete silence except for the sounds of the mountains surrounding me. It was beautiful. I actually think I may have cried a little. Those moments were just one of the many enlightening parts of the trip. The first 3 days of the trip were ridiculously misty and rainy. One of us got sick and another was having problems with her injured knee. We took a rest day on top of a misty ridge. There were wild ponies. We were able to approach them. They were very calm around humans, which worries me a little, but I don't think AT hikers would feed horses any of their precious food, so I don't think that's why they were so calm when we touched them and reveled in the awesomeness. The rest day was day 2. After hiking through the mist and rain all day, we camped in a field on a small slope about 50 feet from the trail. We went to refill water that night. It was so cool. On our way back, we stopped on the slope for a minute and looked around. We could only see the ground beneath us in a circle with a radius of about 10 feet. The morning of the 4th day, we wake up to sun, get out of the tent, and find ourselves staring at an absolutely gorgeous view of a valley and glorious mountains surrounding us. It's impossible for anyone but those who were on the trip with me to understand the feeling I had as soon as I scrambled out of the half dome tent. Words cannot express it. There was no more rain.
When I came back home, my half brown boy came over so I could tell him all about it. I didn't even bother taking a shower. I made an attempt at telling him the general story and I tried, I really did, explaining my discoveries about life and beauty. I became a much more happy and optimistic person. We broke up a few weeks later. I was mopey for about 4 days when we were fighting and discovering that it was ending, but the day we broke up, I was the one to make the decision to end it. I realized that he had been causing too much pain and stress, and that I really didn't need him to be happy. Needless to say, my two girlfriends who came over that evening with ice cream and sappy movies were a little disappointed when I was actually a little jubilant. I think the reason we started having problems was because I had changed so much over that one week. I had gained a sort of inner happiness that I don't think he had achieved, even with one more year of life than me. He wasn't really a sad person, I was just never able to communicate my experiences to him in a way that would inspire him to find his own deep happiness. Once I realized that, I had even one more thing to be proud of. My satisfaction with how I was beginning to live my life.
Drunk boy: better hurry. or else...
Me: or else what?
Drunk boy: it's on.
Don't get your panties in a twist.