Thursday, April 3

George Peppard Where Are You

I hate that I miss you so terribley. I hate that I want to drive to your house and tell you we were both idiots and can't we please just start over. I hate that I can't wake up and not be sad because of the stupid dream I just had (of course it's about you). I hate that every Wednesday a different person asks me how you're doing and I don't know how to answer them. I hate that I always feel this sick heaviness. I hate that I'm even upset about this.

I rent Audrey Hepburn when I get like this. Maybe it's because she get's the mean reds too.

Meanwhile my Fred is off with his benefactor and I'm sitting around playing Moon River in a windowsill.