11:19 p.m. - May 18, 2002
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    I know. I know, getting a little shabby on the updates again. But I guess its just because I haven't been motivated lately.

    I mean. Things are going on. I just haven't been motivated. But I was, just now.

    I had an excellent day today. I bought things, I saw Henry at the mall and apparently we both obviously like each other, according to Heather.

    But suddenly I'm struck. With this feeling. Of emptiness and need and I feel so lost.

    I was just sitting on the couch with my headphones and my discman listening to Rufio. "One Slowdance" came on, and I want to die when I hear it.

    You're standing there alone and so am I. But I want you here by my side. Your smile at me is everything. The staring game, that song of love. I look you in the eyes, I try to read your thoughts. I ask you to go with me, to a far off place. You and me dancing the night away, you can feel my heart beating so hard. We look eye to eye and I'm swept away. On a moonlit walk on the beach, watching the sunrise for the first time. I'm in a trance from that one slowdance. We don't have to talk, we don't have to laugh at all, I just want you here with me.

    And the way it sounds. How perfect it reads. I can't take it.

    I know I have friends. I know I have a perfectly good chance with Henry. I know I had my night with Jeremy and that he still talks to me and doesn't hate me.

    But right now, I am alone.

    I just feel... I don't know. A billion different things. Listening to that song just makes me want to cry. And I wish things were easy. I don't understand why they're so hard. If there are so many great guys out there, how come none of them want me in the way that I need them.

    I don't take my friends for granted, and I never would.

    But I just need that... that thing. I dont know. Male affection, I guess. A hug, a kiss, making out, holding hands, someone to be warm and just close with for a while, who's always there, who won't be mean to me, or judge me, who wants the same things as I do. I guess it sounds impossible. But it's not. If boys write songs like that one, boys exsist.

    I'm not satisfied. I'm just not. Selfish? Fuck you.

    I don't fucking understand. And I fucking hate it. I hate this chancelessness (if thats not a real word, too bad). What if nothing happens between Henry and I. What if I don't hang out with him over the summer. What if Jeremy never wants to see me again and is just humoring me. I'm in for another boring summer. Alone. On this fucking computer, in this fucking chair. And its quite possible. I have to try for Henry, or Jeremy. I don't have to fight for this chair, this computer. Old reliable.

    A summer alone.

    No moonlit walks, no warm nights on my back porch when no one's around, no summer kiss, love, fling, anything.

    The reality is. I have to battle for the things that I want, and I shouldn't have to. The reality is. I live in the fucking suburbs, in Michigan, where beaches big enough to walk on don't exsist anywhere but pictures and stories and songs. And where boys like the ones who write for Rufio don't exsist, and the midwestern drummers who you couldn't be more alike don't exsist either. Period.

    Fuck.

    (its cold where youre going, i hope that your hearts always warm)