I'm padding around this apartment. The carpet is warmer than the air outside. Its a beautiful solitary day, with little humor outside of the excessive text messaging and phone conversation with my sister. I ache for something. Not an ache that is painful & unbearable, but for some love on this campus. It is a lonely place. Filled with noise and sounds that don't settle well with me. There are too many people to try and no one left to really notice. Instead, in 1023 E, I am alone. I can't believe I left home. My home where the walls are built invisible because everyone talks and communicates and tells each other -- shows each other that we really care. I think about my love, spread for miles as a hopeful sheet of protection. Guarding those who have won my heart. It's a maternal vibe, I guess. One that come around once a month to remind me that parts of me are very much alive. So while I walk around this too perfectly coordinated space, I force myself to think about people I love, instead of being with them. It's so damn hard to be in Irvine.