2003-07-16 / 9:27 p.m.

For what?

Weren't we following along with the class when there was despair and regret and leaving without saying goodbye? Why oh why would he be the special one, the onle I secretly longed to hold on to. I don't do things secretly. I left. I left many things that were not a part of my life any more and he was, most assuredly, one of them.

A boy is a boy is a boy and what's my (AshBee-given) cheer? Boys are trouble, boys are trouble... over and over so that I whisper in my sleep, just like neurotic little Franny Glass.

Because I prefer it to the alternative

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