A Whisper.

I hear the sound,
turning my head
remember this face and look for me
look for me
when I am dead.

I didn't invite you over last night because it just felt like stress. I didn't invite you over last night because you make me forget myself. Can I blame you for that? No, it's a cop out. The overwhelmingness of your petulance. I had a dream that Chuck was in line in some drug store and I was there with you; we left in a haze of weird tension and two hours later I returned alone. Chuck was still in the same spot in line and I made some joke, and he just looked at me with saddness. "He is not right for you," he said with all seriousness. What a strange dream.

It's true; I have been fading. This is what I was getting at when I talked about relationships being the "forgetting." If I'd only waited.

If! If! The word that would nail you in. It's never that dire really, is it?

It's no cause for concern. I don't know what's going to happen, and that's fine. I was thinking last night, about the 500 street fights. Stick up for her, e. That's all.