2005-06-05. Someone broke my cookie jar
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I softly laughed to myself tonight thinking about how you could sneak your hand up my shorts tonight and get right to the good stuff. For a second I forgot... and then I remembered that you won't be there...

I miss you. It aches. But I can't respond. I wish you had sent me that email. I am sorry I can't respond to any of your messages. I will stumble and I have to stay strong. You sren't ready to give me what I need - even if it's what you need. Even if you are killing yourself this way. Losing everyone slowly...

I want you. I feel so proud to have what we have... had... whatever...

I am not "sorry you ever happened to me". I keep playing us over and over in my head and wish you could just get help and get better.

I want to be here for you. I want *us* with ever fiber of my being. I also want you so be better, safe and happy more than anything. That is why it has to be this way.

I hope things can be different someday. That someday I can see you dance in the roses and frolic in the park again.

Because that is the way I choose to remember us.