Winter and the Past

So, I went to see the doctor today. I told her about my scratchy throat and my muscle pains (and in all the excitement forgot to tell her about my heartburn) and that I thought that I might be catching the flu, and that I didn't really want to because it was nearing exam time.

After examining my throat and my stomach muscles, checking my pulse and my heartrate she told me I had a red throat and a swollen gland, probably the concoction of some evil winter virus, and that I should drink lots of fluid, gargle with saltwater, and sleep lots.

Thanks doc.

I told her I couldn't sleep, and she suggested I go to a health shop and get some capsules. She also printed me out a prescription just in case I didn't feel better after following her advice tomorrow, in which case I could go and get some antibiotic (she doesn't recommend it because it is bad for the immune system), but told me that if I did, the pill wouldn't work properly. Last time I went to the doctor, they told me the pill had made my breasts bigger.

I hate winter. The cold and the darkness and the susceptibility to illness, but mostly, I hate how it plays with my moods. I have never liked winter. Back in the days when I was younger and had significantly more problems than I do now, I used to find that my depression would reach its peak during winter. Somebody told me that I was "one of those people", who need the sun to fuel their happiness, and that there were quite a few of us and that there was really nothing I could do about it and it would probably always be like this, unless I grew out of it, but that was very unlikely. They said that as I grew older, the effect would probably lessen but there was no telling how much by, or when it would come back.

Being a sun child makes me think funny things during winter. Like yesterday, we were walking into the computer labs to do our assignment, and I noticed a couple standing by the door holding hands. Moving closer, I realised that it was Mark and his (apparent) girlfriend. I waved. The situation made me feel very... strange. He was the Mark who one day, during my second year days, had come up to me while I was studying iin the library, and asked me out. I didn't even know him. I told him I had a boyfriend (not that you could call Bart much of a boyfriend), and he had said:

"Well, if you ever break up with him..."

Seeing him with his girlfriend made me realise how much things have changed, and how much I have grown up. Not that I would have gone out with him ever, he just wasn't my type... but all the same I couldn't help wondering if his girlfriend was anything like me, if he had asked her out because he had thought that she was really beautiful, and had a nice smile.

A similar episode occured on Friday night, when Boy had been a bit grumpy and I had danced all night, mostly under the interested watchful eye of sleazy, shaven headed (not half bad looking) guy after he had sent his drunk girlfriend home. Normally, when Boy is with me all the time, and holding me and kissing my cheeks and my neck, I don't notice these things. But on Friday I was reminded of my past, and what I used to be and I ended up thinking that if I wasn't with Boy, I would have probably ended up getting with Sleazy Guy. Had I been sober, I think I probably would have felt differently. Boy was very understanding (he knows how to deal with me very well), and told me that I should probably drink less, especially if I ever go out without him, lest I do something I would forever regret.

"You should get used to being looked at." He told me.

On Sunday, after he bought me chocolate chip cheesecake, we watched Woman on Top sitting in the center on the very back row of the cinema (there were only two other people there), and he raised the armrest up and held me through the entire movie and kissed my cheeks and my neck and ran his hands over my body, and I could not believe how intense the love I felt for him was, and how the thought of being with someone else could have even crossed my mind.

It was an amazing night, as most nights with him are when it is just the two of us... his kisses still excited me like they used to, the sensation of his hands running over my body still gave me goosebumps. I was very happy.

Today, I am sad again. Tired and sick and sore, upset over something that was almost insignificant (as per usual), and I wonder how long this will go on for. There are assignments due tomorrow, Thursday and Friday. There is no sun. There is plenty of stress. It is unlikely that there will be sleep.

I should really go about finding a health shop tomorrow morning.

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