12.10.2002

I wanted to say to a woman I was having an affair with that I loved her so much it hurt. The hurt was mostly the fact that I knew that the affair had no future, that it was doomed from the start. It was never meant to be an affair in the first place, just something that would happen once or twice but then it turned into months.

I wanted to fuck an ex of mine because he always felt so good and never made me hurt afterwards. But I didn’t call him. Later, I wished I had.

I wanted to find clothes that would protect me and make me feel strong as I would have to comfort my friend. I would have to be strong enough to take care of her while we watched her friends coffin at the altar. I would have to be strong enough not to give in to my grief over her completely. I wanted to feel secure and safe because I knew that we weren’t and never would be again, that this was the last straw. What I didn’t know was that the horrible thing that happened the night before, which just felt like something surreal and impossible, had taken away one more friend.

I wanted everything to be okay.