scattered: Jan. 20, 2003 (8:25 am)

andrea is exhaling smoke and we are talking about her guitar and avail. a boy made me a tape with avail when i was fifteen too. but he never loved me. he never liked me. he was dating that girl then. it's not like their story. and it was only two years ago.

my legs hurt from the dance before the lines of police. we were happy. and i wish every day could be like these last few. at least a little bit.

everyone is very different and i like that. i want to stop saying more and superlatives. i just don't care that much about what they say.

and this girl who makes me nervous went home and read weconfess and wrote me and said she loved it. she's my new friend, i suppose. and maybe i should appreciate that instead of defining everything by him.

he's not even here now. and it wouldn't matter anyway. it's going to be ok.

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