dear friend,

Dear Mark

2005-12-09T21:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Mark,

So it's time, again. For good, I suppose. I can't remember how long it's been since the last time I heard of you – and I've just come to know I'm not the only one in this situation. I do hope you're well and wish you all the best. But it's enough.

I graduated this week. Who would've thought?! Of course I'm also unemployed and broke. Not to mention I'm clueless about the rest of my life. But this was the deadline, wasn't it?

Today I had lunch with friends and when someone mentioned a girl our age who's getting married to her boyfriend of 9 years I did a quick Math to realize I have nobody left in my life from the days when I was 13. So maybe all of my relationships will just have an expiration date.

I had the kind of day that sounds like the greatest fun when I describe it, but in the end it was just too long. I have actually cried alone in the bus station bathroom.

It was a long day.

I'm unemployed. And broke. And clueless.

And I've just lost a friend.

About time, almost

2005-11-22T19:17:00.000-08:00

Dear friend,

In about a couple of weeks I'll be hopefully graduated and that's my new deadline. Remember when I named a deadline for my last message? And then I failed to set the date to the day I'll call it a day and started this messed-up blog. Yeah, that's me. I have issues.

But in a couple of weeks I'll let go of this blog. I'm not sending you the perfect e-mail, I'm not writing public posts for the not-you and I'll just stop checking at your website to see if you're alive. I'm gonna stop the rest of the google and forum stalking as well. We'll just be done, for good.

Will you miss me this time?

Fill your head

2005-11-06T17:32:00.000-08:00

Dear friend,

Blogger is being a bitch and I'm writing for the third time that I didn't miss you for the past two weeks. I'm working and writing to get things done in time, and the journey I started five years ago, when you were still with me, will be over soon. And you won't know it.

I'm sure we could have great conversations about it, and I also know we won't have any. But it's your loss, this time.

Care or not?

2005-10-23T16:48:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Today I picked up that perfect e-mail to send to you and sent it to me instead. Why? Because I've been stalking you again (just a little bit), re-read some old stuff and now I'm not sure if I'm gonna find you great or if I just think you're an idiot.

And I don't want to remember you as an idiot, so I might not want to push you into acting like one.

But I wanted to tell you that I still hate voting. That I probably hate it not just because I couldn't care less but also because I don't consider myself grown up to have a saying in national matters.

And I'd probably add that while I still am not able to drive, I'm the only person with a clue in this house. Like yesterday, when my sister was asking my brother if he'd want the car today – he was taking forever to answer until I explained to him that she wasn't interested in his Sunday, she just wanted the car.

And he was ok with that because he can always use the other car instead. Of course we're talking about my father's car and my mother's car, but our parents' stuff are bound to be ours, right?

So my sister and I are about to go voting (because we have to, and if I went with her I had a ride, since I can't drive myself) and my father asks if she's going to whatever-town to meet the guy who's not even her boyfriend. She says she is and he says he thinks this is wrong, because what kind of boy(friend) gets the girl to drive all the way to whatever-town he lives?

My sister was all pissed and just left, but she has to see it with my father's eyes: when he and mom were dating back in the day, he'd walk her home after school late at night and then walk back all the way to his own living (which was on the other way and much closer to their school) when there were no buses around anymore! Of course, guy who's not even her boyfriend wouldn't act like my dad did back in the day.

My brother is a lot more gentlemanlike, driving his fiancé to work early on Saturdays and picking her up by dinner time. When she lived in another town, he'd often find time to drive all the way there and stay with her, grocery shopping and cooking as well. Ain't that just cute?

Of course it wasn't so cute when he borrowed my father's car so they could catch a movie. Mom, dad and I had no car in the garage and no food for dinner, so we called him by the time the movie would be over to ask him to buy some stuff where he was. He was like "oh, but we wanted to go out now" and please! It would take him 15 minutes of his time with my father's car, but he said "why can't you order it?".

So mom called to order and she finally understood why I always said this very line about the foodshop: "They charge to deliver". They charged to deliver, she thought it was expensive (it was) and gave up and so we had to eat whatever was in the fridge.

Now here's a recap to "why I had to eat whatever was left in the fridge on a Sunday night":

My sister had to borrow mom's car to meet her not-boyfriend in whatever-town the guy lives.

My brother had to borrow dad's car to take his girlfriend to the movies and couldn't spare 15 minutes after the movie was over to buy us some food (and then he probably took her out to dinner, I bet!).

So yes, dear friend, I'm about to accept that people not only let us down too often – they also couldn't care less. But it is a good e-mail, though. I might send it someday.

Should I?

2005-10-18T17:44:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Well, it's written. Properly edited too. Should I send it over? I miss you, I really do. I wouldn't have gotten it ready to send otherwise. But I just hate you so much for... walking away. Mostly I hate you for making me chase after you.

But I kind of... need you, I guess. Specific needs, specific people. I thought I had shown you my darker side, when I was but a teenager angry at everything that wasn't her. Now I'm desperate at everything that I am. I just... need you.

So what now? What if I send you that, and then you don't come back anyway? What if I have to admit that I need you like that and I'm still left alone?

I wish I could tell you of my plans for when I'm dead. I wish I could tell you of my lack of plans for while I'm living. I wish I could assure you I like being alive, even when I oversize the drama to the point that it sounds like I'm the morbid teenager once again.

I'm not a teenager anymore and you're the only person left from those years. And you're not exactly around, so I'm not sure if I should consider you the person who stood. You stood for quite a while, really. Most of people would've given up on me earlier. Most of people did.

Rehearsal

2005-10-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Today I've rehearsed the message I'd like to send you. I didn't get through with it yet because I hate the fact that I'm gonna have to back out on my words and swallow them letter by letter. But I suppose all I can do now is postpone it. I'm gonna get through it, eventually, because I just miss you all that much.

Tomorrow I'll start on the damn piece of work that will assure my graduation. Starting on 17th of October, planning on finishing it by November 17th. Can I pull it? I've no doubt I can. Now I just have to put myself to it. And I'd really love to be on good terms with you when I graduate. You'll owe me a good "congratulations" note.

Something wicked

2005-10-15T13:17:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Ok, the death theme really got to go. You know me, I was never the morbid type. What is wrong with me?

I slept for 13 hours straight. Thirteen. I can recall a little bit of the dreaming I had through those 13 hours and it's freaking me out – even though I was never the type to wonder about dreams either.

I think my mother was in a hospital-related something. A surgery or whatever. I didn't feel specially nervous about it. And the place looked half like a hospital, somewhat like a college and kind of like a mall. Like I knew my mother was there for something hospital-related, but at some point of it I was windowshopping. And the people who would hang there were college students. Private college, like a building (I attend public, in a huge campus with trees).

So it's me, my sister and three guys. I have no idea who was one of them (even though he seemed like the most concerned and shaken person in the party), I just remember he was buying a half-full 20 liters bottle of water. The other was a close friend of my sister. The other was his brother.

At some point I reach a spot with small round tables and chairs, like the food court in a mall. My sister and her friend are sitting by one of the small tables, the other two boys are in the other. The unidentified one is very concerned and goes for a walk as I approach their table. So I sit by the table with my sister's friend's brother and start telling him some anecdote about my mother (because apparently we're there because of her, but I felt like I could throw a funny story to lighten up the moods).

I'm in the middle of the story when I notice he's holding my hand lying on the table. It's warm and I squeeze back, like reassuring something. He says something and it seems like I can never finish my story, even though I keep coming back to it. And I didn't manage to finish it after all, as he gets up, smiling, jumps on his motorcycle and speeds off. Then I go in to buy some candy.

I think it was about noon when my sister and my father were trying to get me out of bed again (they weren't successful) and my half-awake brain was remembering it – my sister's friend's brother died earlier this year, due to complications after he broke his leg in a motorcycle accident (he wasn't riding it). And just now I feel like we could have been best of friends.

People are nasty

2005-10-14T21:59:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

My something-new is, as of today, ready to become my old-something. Done. Gone. Oh well. I can deal with it.

But it's all a big nothing.

Someone was killed in my school this morning. I didn't know him (same major, but he was 3 years my junior) and I haven't been there since forever, but it's just not pretty. The guy who killed him (with a knife, in front of many people) was also from my school, also same major as mine and also 3 years my junior. I didn't know him either.

Still the whole story stole a part of what that school feels to me. And I pretty much spent the whole afternoon thinking "what if they were from my class?". We're talking about normal-looking people. The dead guy's friends were also the killer's friends. How twisted is that?

We're still too young and that was too close to home.

I've received the address to both guys' profiles at Orkut. People write things to the killer that are so nasty I feel sorry for him. If I knew him, I'd try to get in touch with him to pull down his profile. Whatever reasons he had, he had no right to stab the other. Whatever feelings people have, they have no right being that nasty to him either.

I mentioned it to a friend. He asked "who would pull my profile down?" and I said I would. He added we should probably give our passwords to a person we trust so they can manage that for us in case something happens. Like, in case you die. In case someone kills you. In case you kill someone.

It was always my thought to add in my will a list of people (and their addresses) that should be contacted in case I'd die. If I were to write that list right now, you'd still top it.

(I might add ITS in it.)

Pride

2005-10-10T19:31:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Should I swallow my pride and write again?

The world is an ugly place

2005-10-08T18:38:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I've tried to stalk you one more time. I always know it will lead to nothing before I begin, but I do the same ritual all over again, just in case. At times I get desperate and have to force myself not to write again. There's a race starting one and half hour from now, and I wonder if you're gonna watch it. Probably not.

Do you know that for four years I was ok just to know that whenever I'd get this feeling I could just write to you confident that you were gonna tell me everything was gonna be just fine? Well, I did.

And I'm there again.

I'm concerned I'll never do a thing about my life. I worry I'll never bother to build a career. I worry even more that if I bother, I just won't be able to make it anyway.

I'm 22. That worries me.

I often wish I could just be one of those stay-at-home moms. Of course it's not gonna happen because I have no one to support me or turn me into a mother in first place.

Then suddenly I don't want to be a happily-ever-after bride. I just want to have the chance of getting married a couple of times before I'm 40 because by then all of my friends and relatives will have a family of their own and I don't want them to pity me. And people pity old single women, no matter what their lives had been.

Did you ever call me picky? I'm digging through our records now, trying to find out if you did. Most people did. I never cared because I didn't think it was a bad thing – I still don't think it is. But now I'm worried.

I never cared much when people said that because I always thought all I needed was someone slightly better than myself. And I don't even love myself so badly to think I'm the coolest chick in town.

But now I'd be just happy with someone as good as myself, and I just can't seem to find anyone. I'm not saying "anyone available and willing", I just can't find anyone at all. And I still don't consider myself to be all that either...

You see, I needed you to rescue me.
Tell me everything was gonna be alright.
That I'm gonna be great in time.
That I shouldn't worry about boys because that's "so far beneath me" (like you once said).
At this point, you could just propose to me and I might just take it.

Why won't you talk to me?

Counting down

2005-10-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Only one week until my something-new is over and after these two months I'm finally getting over my lame idea that geeks were cute. They're not. They're plain weird. I'm half-geek so I should know that.

I mean, we were deceived by TV and movies all along. They make geeks crack funny jokes with their super geek knowledge mixed up with pop culture references, but in real life geeks make up lame jokes that are funny only to others alike, and then they share a very stupid laughter that only teen boys are allowed to have in the very moment they're finally getting a thicker voice.

And I know I've just said that, but I'm leaving my something-new with the feeling that I could like the boy-to-my-left. I'd prefer someone with broader shoulders and long eyelashes (don't ask about the eyelashes and don't give me that look, I'm entitled to like whichever oddity I want), but I was just so relieved to find out that the one who smells funny is the boy-to-my-right (I swear, he smells like a dog in a rainy day).

I don't like him, at least I don't like him as I type.

But isn't it a nice feeling to know I could actually like somebody, specially if you consider I could actually like someone without the broad shoulders and the long eyelashes?

Don't speak too much

2005-10-06T20:42:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

The more I write here and the more I write to my friends, the more I believe that we should have written more frequent short messages instead of the long sparse mal exchange we used to keep. Ok, maybe one long and dense message every now and then.

I just feel that perhaps... I don't know.
I talk to my friends with tons of short e-mails and it just seems to work.
We're still... close. As close as we could be, anyway.
Better than what's become of us.

Matchmaking. Or maybe not.

2005-10-04T19:09:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I know, I know, I've been writing too much. I bet you wouldn't have had the time to reply yet, if you were actually replying. But I need to get this out of me, and it seems you're still my top choice. Remember boy to my left?

me> I'm leaving class early today.
BTML> Why?
me> My brother's choir is performing today and I don't want to miss it.
BTML> The one who plays the piano?
me> Yeah. He sings, plays the piano, is getting a PhD in engineering... if he weren't engaged, I'd introduce the two of you.

"If he weren't engaged, I'd introduce the two of you". Shiny.
What happened to "hey, wanna catch a movie on the 14th?"???

Jane and Lizzy

2005-10-03T17:49:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Just after I wrote the last time I ended up finding my Jane-Austen-huge-book and started Pride and Prejudice yet another time. At chapter 4 there's a dialogue between Jane and Lizzy Bennet and all I could think was "that's it, I'm Lizzy and my sister's Jane – the older, prettier and nicer one". And I'm a little bit of Mary (the plain one), but without the love for god and his men.

Jane> I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.
Lizzy> Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take YOU by surprise, and ME never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.
Jane> Dear Lizzy!
Lizzy> Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life.
Jane> I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think.
Lizzy> I know you do; and it is THAT which makes the wonder. With YOUR good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough--one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design--to take the good of everybody's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad--belongs to you alone.

My sister

2005-10-02T17:57:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I suppose I never talked much about my sister to you. Do you know I have a brother too? You probably do, as I am very attached to my brother. Not that I don't like my sister, but I'm just over-attached to my brother (much to his displeasure).

But then there's my sister. She's just one year older than me and we've shared a bedroom for most of our lives – except for those years when she lived away for college. So that screams tension, right? But we get along pretty well, mostly. Specially after we weren't 13 anymore. And mostly because she's such a nice girl. Really.

I suppose I never talked much about my sister to you, except in that line in the last time I tried to reach you. So I have to say that she's not only a prettier version of me, she's also nicer. A lot nicer. She's caring and she's friendly and she smiles. I've told her this many times: "Machines like me, people like you".

I'm not so sure you'd like her, though. As she's more friendly and polite than me, she might not have annoyed you like I did. But if you liked me (and I like to think that you did) you might not be so fond of her open manners.

That's my sister. My lovely, caring, generous and prettier sister. And mostly obvious.

I could always tell what was going on in her life. Not with details, but the general lines of it. Of course her journal was always very within my reach so I could get the details, but I was already very suspicious when I'd come to that. After she moved out it got harder, even though she's moved back in this year. Plus she doesn't keep a journal (at least as far as I know). But yeah, we still know when she's up to something.

She had like... one serious boyfriend. Considering "serious" as "someone she brought home to meet the parents". I don't really know of the rest, as she makes guys like her just the way I make guys be very afraid of me.

Anyway, that boyfriend... sucked. He was far too sleazy and acted like a 15-year-old (he was 20-something then). It started back in 2000, lasted a couple of years until he realized he was a 15-year-old and chose to whore around. She was kind of devastated. Ok, not really. Maybe a little. She is nice, she liked the man, she cried a lot.

From what I got with her friends, they had a little on/off situation during the time she was away. So this year he mentions to a friend of one of my friends that my sister was "the one for him, but it didn't happen". Word travelled to me and died here, as I'd never dream of mentioning this to my sister. When did "it didn't happen" become "I was a loser and screwed it up over and over"?

My sister is such a nice girl and yet she ends up with idiots. I actually worry about her, because she sees the best in people and opens up to them.

So yesterday I was the only one left home when she said "I'm out". Out where? "Not sure yet". With whom? Ok, she paused. Hey, tell me 'cause mom's gonna ask. "Mom knows with whom". Ok...

Mom arrives and asks if she's out. Yeah. "Out where?". She didn't know. "With whom?". She said you'd know. Mom laughs – she doesn't know. Not really, anyway.

She comes home at 2am, when I'm considering going to bed. Everyone else's asleep. They had pizza. She doesn't say much. The next day she brings him home. Oh well.

I'm back to being "the only single child" again. We might have to set tables for 7 again. We never set tables for 8.

Desperate, anyone?

2005-09-30T21:36:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I've stopped by your site today again because apparently that's what I do. Nothing new, so I could find some comfort that while you don't keep me posted, you're not keeping anyone posted either. By the way, things look a little misplaced in Opera, you might want to check it.

But I'm trying to remember how often we used to write, but the memories are too old to tell me anything. I remember that at some point we'd message at least once a day for four days or so, and then we'd drop it until there was a reason to write again. I usually wrote whn I was freaking out, wasn't it so? No wonder you ran away leaving no tracks behind (actually you left some traces, but the only way I could dig into them was totally swalling the little pride left in me, so I won't).

I'm feeling much better now, probably for the wrong reasons.

On Tuesday we had a test on my something-new, and I was totally out of that. As I was trying to comfort myself, I asked the guys why should I care about the scores and one of them replied that our grades will be made available for random companies looking for technician. And who said I want to work as a technician? Because I don't. Not that I don't like technicians, I just don't think that's the thing for me. Basically I'm feeling better because I'm relieved that I don't want to do that something-new for a living, so it's ok if I'm not good at it. So basically I'm feeling better without even having a better clue of what I want to do for a living, but just because I excluded one more thing. Oh, but I aced the test because apparently that's what I do.

Also the "I don't know what intonation is" helped. A lot. I mean, what kind of person doesn't know what intonation is? Worse – what kind of person doesn't know what intonation is and, instead of googling for it, checking any dictionary or asking a smarter friend, admits it? Really! Not that I'm taking down the "if you're not doing anyone, why won't you do me?" spirit, but that puts me in charge of myself again. It's like "if you're not doing anyone, why won't you do me? but don't worry, no expectations here... I'm not looking forward to show off a person who doesn't know what intonation is".

Really. I've always tried to measure exactly how smart the ideal guy should be. I can't really stand the too cultured ones and I usually tend to dislike it when people are way too smarter than me, but I absolutely despise the ones who are lacking. Basically I'm in love with myself and I'm looking for someone just as smart as I am. Better looks are wanted too.

But back to other people, I find it necessary to watch Die Hard with someone who'll be able to solve the puzzle of the gallons of water. Yes, that means I dislike people who are too good for Die Hard.

You'd laugh at me now, wouldn't you? You never say much about girls, except for the one time about the blowjob. Of course you'd spend the rest of the time trying to charm me, and not-taking-about-other-girls seems like the right approach. You'd laugh again now, I can tell. No, not laught – you'd flash a grin.

What am I missing here? Oh, boy-to-my-left is a much better company when boy-to-my-right is absent. I sometimes think I could convince him to "do me, if you're not doing anyone". Or I could convince him that he wants to, even if he does nothing. Seriously, sometimes I make myself so available that it's rather embarassing – and yet we still haven't touched. Isn't that funny? I've touched strangers and random people I dislike, but we never touched. Neither did we. Not that I touch people, I'd rather not, most of the time. But it happens, sooner or later, with most of the other people. And I have two weeks left until my something-new is my something-past.

Sometimes it freaks me out that I could apply my over-mentioned "if you're not doing anyone, why won't you do me?" policy to you. No, don't pout, I'm not trying to offend you. But you do understand that it would be stupid, right? That's why I never pushed further, even though I loved your flirtatious self. That's right, I loved that. So don't pout.

Snap out of it

2005-09-25T17:20:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I've tried to track you down again today, no luck. As it is, how am I gonna find someone to tell me that yes, I am insane and therefore should do my best to snap out of it?

It.
Well, today I logged in and he was logged in. I try my best on IM things not to write a message too soon as I'm trying desperately not to be the loser who needs attention/company (even when I'm being ignored by you). So after five minutes or so I haven't written anything and I'm over waiting as I'm doing other stuff to keep me busy and then...

>>>> hi and bye, I'm out...
me> ok.
me> bye?
>>>> yeah, I'm logging off.
me> yeah, I had understood it.
me> I've just said "bye".
>>>> but you added a question mark to it.
me> It was meant for intonation.
>>>> I don't know what intonation is, but it's ok. lol
me> lol
>>>> so see ya tomorrow.
me> bye.
me> no question mark.
me> and no intonation.
>>>> it's better that way. lol
>>>> bye.

Like... SNAP.OUT.OF.IT!

Expectations

2005-09-24T15:32:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

As you don't write me, I just hate you more and more. I actually needed you to call me. I hate phonecalls, but I needed to talk to someone and I can't think of anyone else.

A couple of weeks back I found out two girls who went to High School with me are dating 30-something-year-old guys. And they're about 23!

I bet you'd be laughing at my views on youth and age...
But I really can't think that was a good idea. I know you were thirty-something when we started this, and I know my mother always says boys are too slow compared to girls. But I do have reasons to be against 20-year-old girls dating 30-year-old guys:

1. Regardless of what my mother says about girls and boys, I'm not mature. Most of the girls my age I know have grown with equally great parents who made less independent than my mother's generation was. Boys are still stupid at 25, but girls aren't all that either!
2. Regarding you and this awkward crush that came to life after you went away, I assume an immature girl is allowed to have a childish crush on an older someone when they're cool, even if not suitable for dating.
3. If we start accepting 30 year-old men at 20-something, we'll be accepting 50 year-old men at 30-something. What will be left when we're 40?
4. Let's take a 10-year age difference. I believe it's a tiny difference after we're 40, even at 30! But at our early twenties we're starting a life of our own. Finishing school, hunting jobs, building a career, flying away from our cozy nest... By establishing a relationship with someone who's already lived through all that, we'll always be behind in experiences than the other person!

Does that make my point?

Anyway, they're 30. One of the girls kept the story a secret for a long while as she didn't want to confront her father about that – so it's not like she's completely cool with the age thing. The other girl is dating a 30-something who lives with his parents. And that's very uncool because:

1. His mother probably mothers him until now. Guess what he's expecting from you?
2. He is a big child.
3. He can't support himself.
4. It'll look really ugly when he leaves his elderly parents for you!

Actually thinking about 30-somethings living with parents made me realize that, despite annoying my father by saying I don't want to leave this comfortable home never ever, I'm definitely doing my best to buy my place within the next 5 years so I can leave home and save my image.

But well, maybe they're better than me. The single one.
It gets worse: I secretly want to get married to anyone. Ok, not anyone.

I don't know what happened to me in the past 10 years. I used to be a smart child at 12, listening to respectful music, reading important books, planning a great career. Now I listen to crappy music, barely read at all and wish I were prettier so I'd marry someone rich and that was all.

Yes, I was a much better person back then.

Not that I'd marry the worst specimen of mankind with a nice bank account, but I do find successful people rather attractive. And they're likely sharp too, which helps. Worst case scenario, they work very hard and won't bug me all day long.

Besides, my expectations have developed into something more realistic (other than the money factor). I've realized a spark is much better than bursting into flames.

But since wishing I were prettier won't make it come true, I should probably go back to the other plan, the one with the career.

Unfortunately I'm completely clueless to that. I expect to graduate by the end of the year, and I'm more and more certain that it's just not the career/job for me. And yesterday I was freaking out with strangers when it hit me one more time that maybe – quite likely – the one career I wish I won't follow is the one thing I can do with my life.

And this is the part where you'd say I'm bright and I'll do fine in anything I desire. But you won't say anything.

My something-new

2005-09-23T19:00:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I believe you're aware by now that I find it hard connecting with people. Making friends. Liking people. Establishing relationships.

Dealing with others is always a big deal to me.

At my something-new, I got to meet two people out of 50. You get the picture. After a little over a month I'd be ignoring one of them if that wouldn't probably exclude me from any social contact through the next month.

The other one is cool. He remindes me of someone and pisses me off the very same way too. In a funny way I think we kind of clicked, and then I keep thinking to myself "if you're not doing anyone, just hit me!" because I'm really not that ugly. I never managed to send you a picture – I wouldn't mind about that now – but I swear I look decent enough for someone who's not doing anyone. But that's pretty stupid, as today I've realized I have never touched him at all.

Damn. I really wish we could talk. I wish you'd say I'll get over myself and I won't have to have major freak-outs in front of strangers. I wish you could tell me if I'm giving one hint too little or one hint too much. I just wish you'd say something now.

Updating

2005-09-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

I don't know where I stopped last time around, but just by looking at the dates I suppose I should mention I'm not working anymore and I'm in the middle of a two-month-long something-new. You were supposed to have started you own something-new by now, and I bet it's a thousand times more exciting than mine (just as I'm sure you're gonna leave me guessing).

I also spoiled a perfectly good chance, got sad at the time and then got over because the perfectly good chance wasn't necessarily what I really wanted for myself. What I do want for myself is still a big wonder... and the clock is ticking while I don't make up my mind. I don't think my something-new is it either, but I like the idea of adding things and things to me, even when they don't have a real purpose. I don't believe I have a real purpose either, so it's all very fitting.

I've had loads of spare time lately. I spend most of it thinking, mostly about people, mostly obsessing. I keep trying to track them down, trying to know what every person who was once slightly connected to my life has been doing since the last time I saw them – and it's been quite a while since I've seen most of them. I do that, and then I like to feel relieved that we're away. Does that make any sense?

I cannot track you down, but I can check on most of the others. That makes no sense to me.

On a brighter note, I'm happy with the friends I have and I'm in a better moment with most of them. We hardly ever get together, but when we do it's good. And when we don't, we still keep up with each other. They are just... good to me.

Plus I'm lousy at meeting new people, so I better take good care of these.

Jumpstart

2005-09-21T21:07:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

Last time I properly wrote to you was on Jun 29th, after almost 10 months of silence. "I'm gonna stick to my promise of not writing again without replies", I said.

On the 3rd of July I last heard from you: "Will reply to your email below, tomorrow or later today". You haven't written a line to me ever since, and my promise is kept as much as I can keep anything.

I often wonder if you fully understand the effect that your lack of response has had on me. Everytime I check my e-mail I have a secret hope there's a message from you, not even bothering to explain why you took so long, but spending every letter switching from praise to disapproval to me previous statements, like you did for four years.

Four years! It's almost like a long-term relationship, even if it was a twisted and incomplete relationship. Didn't you notice how it evolved through the four years? Didn't you notice how, at some point, you got me to trust more to you than I've trusted to anyone, even now?

I'm ok if people don't like me. I'm ok if people stop liking me. But it usually comes with reason and satisfaction, and you came with nothing but silence. After four years of spilling to you the things I won't dare mentioning to my closest girlfriends.

I hated you for that.
I hated you for a couple of months.
I hated you for not coming back with a witty reply to make me forget everything.

But it's ok now.

As I don't get your words anymore I'm just gonna spill out mine.