written on 14 May
at 0000 hrs

*Go ahead and give it to me; cut it up and cry.* -Sonia Dada

I wonder if tomorrow you're gonna be mad that I didn't call tonight like I said.

I hope so, 'cuz then I'll talk about how you never update.

Watching Avs games "with" you is totally the funnest.

I'm not so sure I'll ever get you to the point where you feel like you can talk to me the way I want you to talk to me.

Like we're best friends and that we always have been and always will be.

Comfort does not equal pity.

I can't wait to see you guys this weekend!

I have no idea why I'm writing this way.

I wanted to let you know that your email today really meant a lot to me. [I know you know.] [I also know that you'll probably never read that, and I'll probably never tell you.]

I'm not so much a fan of the fact that I call you crying and leave a voice mail and you don't call me back.

It's the coolest that you and I are such losers. [I'm fine with it.]

The thing is that I can't deny how much I still care about you. And even when we sat on the same bleachers, looking at the same town, seeing different things ... all I wanted for you was a little bit of peace. I just wanted you to lay down and let me hold your hand while you slept. But instead you said, "There's lightning. We should go." Fuck lightning.

Actually, I think I am/was writing like that because I have no idea what I need or want to say. To anyone, except Ben. So I just fumble through everyday conversations that have more-than-everyday meanings.

And even though I sign off/hang up feeling like I'm totally a shitty friend, I know that you sign off/hang up feeling like I helped.

I'd stay up all night every night for you, because bad times aren't all we have. I THINK YOU KNOW THAT, BUDDY!!!

Dood. That earthquake is fucking scary shit. I couldn't live without you. And you know that. Even though we always joke around 'n shit, ya hoar, you know I love you more than [allofthishere,] and that I would be incomplete without you.

DUH, KALLI.

I want nothing more than to help you through your shitty time. But I think we both know that my helping would only complicate/worsen things. I'm here for you, though. [Except, evidently, when I'm eating dinner.]

Oh, and Dad? Turns out you can't call my work and say, "Let me speak to your mother." Fuck you. Act civil to me, you prick.

And God? I know You keep telling me to just chill and stop praying. I know You have it under control. But if You could just help me out a little, that would be great. I don't know how to help anymore. I love you.