January 21, 2004
you are the dearest you, with your too short too casual email with too many exclamation points. so unlike you, not even your words. not even you. i feel so tired all the time you know. so tired but i just keep going because i can't be lost anymore. and so when i am coming home on the bus and i feel my eyes stinging i blink hard and look out the window and think this is just now. this is just now. sometimes it works a little. i don't know where it is that i'm going but it must be better than here.
it has been twelve days. how many more until i stop swearing that i will love you forever?