"You make it hard to breathe. It's as if I'm suffocating, and when you're next to me, I can feel your heartbeat through my skin. It makes me sad to think this all could be for nothing. I wish there was a way for you to see inside of me.  I've never felt this way about anyone or anything.....I know exactly what you're thinking, but I swear this time I will not let you down. I'm not as selfish as I used to be. That was a part of me that never made me proud. Right now, I think I would try anything, anything at all to keep you satisfied. God, I hope you see what losing you would do to me. All I want is one more chance."

     So, of, course, I have a dream that involves everything I don't want to think about. It was perfect, too. Goddamn subconcious. It never lets me rest, always churning out this  kind of crap. And I was naked. Completely naked. And no one cared. I ended up putting my clothes on at one point, because I was cold. Strange. I don't have many naked dreams. I just looked up on some dream intepretation website what that means, and apparently, it means my desire or failure to get noticed. Well, that's dead on. Gah.

     Why does my cat think the perfect place to clean himself is on my lap? While we're at it, why does he chew on metal and play with his turds?

     I miss Sue. I'm not going to be able to deal if she ends up getting that new job and moves to Virginia. Yeah. That's gonna be a whole bag of nothing fun. I mean, I'd be happy for her, because it's a good move up the ladder, and she'd get more money, but I'd loose the only father figure I have in my life. I already lost my biological father, and to loose the closest I've ever had to a real dad, it'd just be bad. It would only reassure my fear of everyone abandoning me. I wish I could go with her. I would, too, in a heartbeat, 'cause really, what's keeping me here? I don't have family, I don't have a lover, I don't have any outstanding obligations. What difference would 316 miles make?

     "Why is it that every time I think I know the answers, someone goes and changes the questions?"

     Later, my loves.

"I have a problem that I can not explain. I have no reason why it should've been so plain. I have no questions, but I sure have excuse. I lack the reasons why I should be so confused. I know how I feel when I'm around you. I don't know how I feel when I'm around you."

     I hate everything right now. I hate that the sound's decided to not work on my computer. I hate that I can't fix it. I hate that I hardly ever see my mother, except when I tell her I'm sad. I hate that I am sad. I hate that I have been sad. I hate that I can't stop being sad. I hate the fact that if I'm sad for too long, they'll leave, because apparently I'm such a hassle. I hate that Sue might be leaving. I hate that my mom can't even give Sue one day of time for her birthday, even a few hours would be nice. I hate that I can't get over rejection. I hate that I have to get over people. I hate that my wisdome teeth are coming in and making my mouth throb along with my head. I hate that I hate the dentist. I hate that I don't see Octopus as much. I hate that it's not the same. I hate that I had to open my fucking mouth and inevitably break my own heart. I hate that I found this box of notes and decided to read them. I hate that my relationship with Fernando got so completely obliterated. I hate that Zombie and I aren't close anymore. I hate that everyone I date loves dick more than they love me. I hate that my abdomen is killing me. I hate my period. I hate that even if I wanted to get married, I can't. I hate homophobes. I hate asparagus. I hate the window in my room. I hate the flies that get stuck in it in the summer, 'cause it's broken. I hate that my landlord's a crap weasel. I hate that he doesn't fix anything. I hate that all the bulbs in my fan are blown out. I hate that I need a ladder and six extra feet to my height to reach the fucking fan. I hate that my cat's a needy, vengeful idiot that pisses on shit when I'm not home. I hate that he's also illegal. I hate that I'm hungry, but I can't eat. I hate that my favorite pajama pants have a massive hole over the crotch. I hate that I have to take the damn garbage, all seven bags, out front. I hate that no one anywhere wants to fucking hire me. I hate that I'm afraid. I hate that I'm alone. I hate that my life is so fucked up. I hate you. I hate them. I hate me.

     What I wouldn't give for a nice bottle of valium.

     Later, my loves.

"Silly me, look what I did again. I found what I want, is what I cannot have. I didn't mean to be so predictable, but I blame it all on who made you irresistable, and it isn't something I need, 'till you tell me I can't. Why wear my heart on my sleeve when it looks so good in your hands? My heart breaks in a heartbeat, and you're stormy when you come and go. Taste of something so sweet, should have warned me 'bout the undertow."

     So, I tried to write something that didn't include romance or sadness, because I didn't feel like focusing on that, and this is what I got. Hmm.

     She was spontaneous, harder to capture than the wind, and I knew I'd follow her, if only to watch the spirit inside her glow. We ran through the half flooded streets, rain pouring down heavy, our laughter ricocheting off buildings and wrapping around lamp posts. I stayed a few steps behind, watching her break out of her chains, smiling as she called my name from up ahead, asking me to join her. I jumped in puddles as passer bys stared at our childlike fun, our ritual cleansing. She had pulled something out of me, something deep and unchartered, some new kind of freedom that I had only ever attained in dreams. She had opened a door I thought for sure was locked, and she walked right in, rearranging the pictures on the walls and the rugs on the floor. I didn't mind at all. The rain ceased, and we continued to walk casually through the dark streets, exchanging stories, asking questions, finding more common ground to stand upon, to bind us together. I looked over to see her playing with her soaked hair, pushing it back over her shoulders, and she had never looked more beautiful or vulnerable. I knew in that moment that I'd protect her without question, that I'd fight off the demons she battled without a second thought, and I wouldn't stop unless she told me to. We had achieved a loyalty, a trust that I vowed never to break or bend. I loved her as much as a friend could, surpassed my own limit of caring and let her farther in than I had most, and she knew.

     Yeah. Obviously, I miss Chelsea.

     Later, my loves.