hilarity_utters peyton I have no idea what you're talking about. She's in Charlotte. Taking a class. She's sweet. Happy. Uplifting. She never talks about knives. She never stares at them. Nothing like that. She's incredible. We party. We talk about light things. We go to ball games. We go on vacations. We make plans for the future. Scott likes her. I'd sum her up in a word: Hot. But it's not really about her. As much as I might wish for civility, I don't. I've never met someone so manic. So panic prone. So desperately self-convincing. It amuses me. That's really all. That's really it. I'm hoping that if I push it enough it'll break. I hope that for you. But it's not really about you either. I'm trying to let go of anger inside me. I never realized there was so much. Targetless, dumb-fired anger. But it's going away.. somedays. I'm getting better! You wouldn't recognize me anymore. But it's okay. Most of the time I'm the same old me. But it's not really about me, is it? Shake and Bake is bland. But I like it. I eat more steak nowadays than I should. Ali made me eat sushi! I like it! But only the crab kind. I think about you more than I probably should.. but they say it takes time. I don't hate you. I don't even want to. I know you want to hate me. That's okay. You'll get there someday, just be careful of harnessing things like that. I hope you're happy too! I hope the "someone elses" are filling all the gaps. Just don't lie to yourself and say you're finished. You've said it before, and it's not true. You have to accept to love is to be always bonded, whether you like it or not. You may hate it, loathe it, scrub it, try to forget it, but it will always have at least a footnote somewhere. But I'm not smart. There's not a need to listen to me, really. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. Seriously. I owe it to her, sadly. It took someone greater than me to pull me up.. and make no mistake she's much greater than me. You're not. You're too much like me. You hate too much. Such things are dangerous. I'm not sorry I met you. I'm not sorry it's over. I'm not sorry there's nothing to say. And don't be spiteful. It doesn't make you pretty. Don't you want to feel pretty? 060615 what's it to you? who go blather from