Hi.
Was thinking about you today when I saw the cop car pull out of the Wendy's parking lot on Main Street. You'll never believe who was behind the wheel... It was kind of strange, actually... I haven't seen that asshole in a long, long time... I haven't seen YOU in a long, long time... I miss you.
I know we never were close friends... I wished we were. I wished we were closer. I remember the time you emailed me and told me your life story out of the blue... I'm not sure WHY you told me your life story, but I was honored...
At work today, I was thinking about the time you threw the orange at the wall because you were pissed at me. And then came over one night with Erich and apologized profusely for like, three hours. I'm so sorry. I never really got to say my own sorrys... After that, we didn't talk much; I don't think we were mad at each other, just... I don't know.
I don't know why I'm writing to you in this journal. I know you never read it. I don't think you've EVER read it. I think I could dig up your life-story email and post it here for everybody to see, and you'd never know the difference. But I miss you. I've never had very many girl friends; I'm a lot like you -- too much of a bitch for the other girls, and not enough of a girl for the boys... I always admired how much you threatened everybody by your demeanor alone.
I think I'm going to send you a card. I don't know your address, but I sort of know directions to your house, so I'll just write the directions on the envelope and let the postman figure it out. I'm sure we spend about half our lives within half a block of each other, but I haven't seen you since the holidays... I hear stuff about you every now and again, but it's not the same as hanging out... The things I hear haven't been so great. And if they're true -- and I'm not going to assume anything -- I can truly sympathize, because I've been there and done that and been fucked over by it. And that's all I'm going to say.
I guess... I just wanted to say... hi... and... I love you... and... I wish I could find a blank notebook and tell you my whole life story and send it to you without feeling like a loser.
We need another party. Soon. I miss your parties. They always ended up being pretty much just you and me making trouble anyway. And they always seemed to change my life.
(Remember the plywood airplanes and the plastic parachuters? And singing Tori songs all the way through town and forgetting the words? And the fire? Er... fires? We've been through too many fires together... Heh... But I wouldn't mind going through another one... You and I seem to fit right in, in front of leaping flames...)
No real reason for bringing any of this up. But I wish we still talked. I still know your number by heart -- I guess you know that -- and even if I didn't, it's only one number away from the number on the side of all the garbage dumpsters, heh heh... But you're never home. And I hate answering machines... What would I say? Haven't seen you in half a year, let's go out for coffee? There's not many coffee places in town that you and I haven't tainted in some way or another...
We need another party. I've got some white chocolate Godiva in a pretty little bottle that's just BEGGING for a latté to go into... And of course, the Portishead CDs... And a life story to tell you...
Missing you...
~H.T.*
"He ran into my knife... He ran into my knife TEN TIMES." --Our theme song.