March 12, 2004
Stars shine. I whine. Pine. Wine. Whatever. All I really want to say is that I want you to come, come back. Whine. Whine. But really. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure I want you back, after all's been said and done. Strange. I miss you, though. Is it possible to miss someone and not want that person back? Because I miss every depressingly careless beautiful move of yours, every sound of your breathing, every clichédly wonderful part of being with you. But having you back would be emotional suicide. And I dream of loving you again.