Texas Update: Is it love?

Well, now it is the fall of my sophomore year of college, with winter quickly approaching. Galveston was my taste of Texas and, from what my Aunt has personally told me, it's basically gone. The historic piers have been decomposed by water and her apartment has gotten a taste of that too. The media has made it seem as though Galveston has become the new New Orleans. I want to travel there again, soon, to assess the damage for myself. That won't happen for a while though.

Love. Hard to describe, but it's what most people aspire to. Let's see, I am 19, 20 in May, so according to most people I have a couple more years before I really understand what love entails. A failed engagement does not count. However, when one is in a new refreshing, exciting relationship of three months, it is hard not to utter out that four letter word. Why is that? Why is it that when you have "warm" feelings for another that the love word has too much meaning to it. Why has society put so much weight on that word that it can not be the word I use. Even though, that is the only word to describe how I feel when I am around him. Filler words have to be used instead, until enough time passes that it is socially acceptable for me to say, "I love you."

"Sigh, not another boy," is what my relatives think whenever I tell them about my boyfriend. I have had many relationships, each with their own excitement that I can not contain myself. Each one usually feels like the best one ever. This relationship is not any different. I can not help but talk constantly about him, his benefits and flaws. I find myself doing more sexual acts for this man than any other, but does that show my commitment to him, or my eagerness to please? I am continuously discovering new ways to keep his interests peeked. I know I have him, he's mine and he's enjoying it, however, worrying always takes over. I must always keep things fresh so he does not get bored of me. I must always be interesting and refreshing, in order for him to stay with me. I do not see any unequal qualities between, but that could be my "thing called love but can not be called love" talking. Who knows where this will go. But I hope that when I look back at this blog, I will not have angry memories. Instead I hope to have happy memories about how great we once were. Not on how much of an asshole he is.