last night was bad for me. took me an hour or more to fall asleep. then i kept waking up.

i remember when i could just sleep.

when i woke this morning, for the last time, twenty minutes before my alarm, which i had set for later during a previous awakening, i checked my email.

and the girl had mailed me, and someone else, a letter.

a poem, actually.

and it killed me.

the things behind it and not so behind and blatantly spelled out hurt, because i know that shes dying and there's nothing i can do.

there's nothing she'll let me do.

i told her i would offer her anything and everything.

and she told me she doesnt want my everything. she wants me to have my everything. that i dont give myself my everything. and i deserve my everything.

and all this other stuff.

and i need to sleep.

my day is done, except for a little bit. and for a reply to the poem to let her know the one thing i could never forgive her for is if she took her own life.

my nose was bleeding this morning. not gushing, or anything. just a drop to let me know it was there.

and i am tempted to call home.

and i am tempted to call her.

and i am tempted to sleep.

and i will sleep.