PART I - - -This where I say I've had enough, no one should ever feel the way that I feel now.- - - PART I

So it hasn't been a bad day. But let's take it in stages, and with a proper introduction.

The mystery of Kyle's disappearance has been solved. It turns out he was out of town, he just failed to mention it to me. Well, kind of. He got back in town on a Saturday, well the Thursday after that he called for the first time, but left a message. He was calling to tell me he was going out of town, but he failed to say that in the message. So I called back, and back, and back. I sent him letters in the mail, poems, prayers. Everything. When I found out he had just been on vacation I couldn't bring myself to laugh at my mistake or his negligence. I was a bit upset. He was tired when he told me this, so I let him go and wrote him another letter, another poem, another prayer. Sometimes I feel like the mailman has a better chance of illegally reading it than he does. I never know when he gets my mail, because he doesn't write anymore. Or e-mail. Or call. Two nights ago he did call. He was upset. He wanted to talk about "us." He doesn't think he can give me the attention I deserve. He feels like he owes me something. He's scared of college, of leaving, of being left. I just said, "it's ok, let's talk about everything." And we did. I know my advice helped, and I'm glad of that, but I don't know what the condition of "us" is. He said he needed a week or so to settle in and figure things out. I told him that was fine and not to worry about me or even feel pressured to write me or anything. I basically told him that I can handle it and to worry about the other demanding people in his life who can't. So maybe he does owe me something. But it's not the right season. He needs to understand that. I make sacrifices now. Maybe he'll make them later. I wrote a poem this morning about it:

crisscrossed under an apple tree

wondering where is the fruit,

and then figuring out, it's

just not the right season.

I'm glad that he has me right now instead of some nerdy girlfriend who couldn't put up with the distance and loneliness and required patience. Maybe I've been put in his life right now because I can handle it. And, yea it hurts! Haha. But it's ok. It just feels so different from what it was. Even in two weeks. The last time I saw him we were just two kids in love, quoting Brautigan and making observations on the moon. Now we're worlds away, with few holidays to call our own, and the shared fate of reality.

Last night I went over to James' and we watched High Fidelity. This did absolutely nothing for my situation of imminent rejection. Years from now I'll own a bookstore and follow a synonymous destiny of questioning the opposite sex. "Hello, we dated, remember? Yea, that's the me. The girl you kissed by the river? In the river? Under the stars? Like a poem?" Then he'll tell me he doesn't read poetry anymore and the river's too dirty to swim in and the sky to dirty to see stars.

I woke up this morning, alone in my house, and decided to give heartache a kick in the ass. I rolled out of bed, ridiculously dressed in men's pajama pants and a little target stretch bra thing with pink lace on it. First sounds of the morning: Dashboard Confessional - the CD that defines broken hearts all around the globe. I cleaned the house and jumped up and down in my room and said "TAKE THAT HEARTBREAK, BOOYAH!" Maybe depression isn't that ephemeral, but I've had a beautiful day. I didn't do anything, but the simplicity of it was beautiful.

One of Kyle's favorite poems is "It's Raining In Love." There's a line that goes "A friend of mine once said,'It's twenty times better to be friends with someone than it is to be in love with them.'"

Yesterday it rained. I wrote him a letter. I told him that it may be twenty times better to be friends with someone than it is to be in love with them, but it's twenty times better than that to be in love with a friend.