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These minutes stretch to hours.

Listen.

I don't want this anymore than you. I'm tired of the keyboard, and I'm tired of the blue glow phone, and I'm tired of backspacing my way through thoughts.

Even if it does feel better now that I can feel things with the tips of my fingers, instead of far back.

I don't know what I need. And, I don't know if you'll be enough. I don't know that I can be trusted with anything.

Look at me, here, nothing. This is nothing, and not what I want. No, nothing is ever good enough, or it hasn't been. No, I'm not satisfied with this life and I don't know what I need to fill myself up any more.

Where this sense of entitlement comes from, I don't know. I'm not better than anyone, but I'm not her. So maybe I am better than both of them, but it doesn't mean I can do this.

I'm just as scared as you are. Just as afraid. I don't know what I'd do with someone I trusted, or someone who wouldn't leave.

At the bottom of my coffee is the sugar, and it's too sweet to drink.

I have a life, it's still missing something. I don't want you to fix it. I just want you to come with me to the place where I can fix it myself. How crazy will it drive you to live with someone as irresponsible as me? With someone who can't see a calendar without cringing, so I buy the day at a time ones.

It would have been so easy to just think you were neat, and enjoy the attention, then move on to the next. But, that's not how this is working. Yes, fuck you for having every goddamned thing. You couldn't just be missing one piece, no. You couldn't be difficult to talk to. You couldn't be missing the fucking, because that's key. That's like 500 bonus points. And I fucking refuse to give you everything through these shitty words, over creaking telephone lines.

And, I'm not writing this to you, not like before. I'm writing this to me, because it's making my brain fly, and my heart makes machine gun sounds, and I can't concentrate long enough to finish anything. I'm just distracted at every thought, and it's all a mass of live wires I can't untangle without getting shocked.

So, fuck it. Fuck everything. Let's just go, and get the beginning over with so we can get stuck in the middle.

This is another two or three days of waiting. And, you're not to feel badly. Don't. I'm just weird and unintelligible. Just let me run at the fingers, it's all I've got right now.

Because that's what I'm trying to say. You don't understand my kind of devotion, or you really do, and that's what's scary.

12:57 p.m. - 2003-08-01

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