she was upset. i asked her what the matter was, and she said "that's a long story. do you have a minute?"

and i told her yeah.

so she told me how her and her mom had a huge fight.

she started crying.

she talked about how she's afraid to leave the house because she thinks her mom will pack everything up and hide it.

i sat on the floor of my apartment with my eyes closed, listening to her cry.

she said "i dont know what i did."

and i told her she didnt do anything. she never did anything. it's her mom. her mom's crazy.

"she wasnt always crazy."

then i was quiet. and said "after me."

"yeah. more after you."

"im sorry."

"dont say that."

"im sorry. i didnt want that to be a byproduct of us."

"dont say that."

she doesnt know what she's going to do. if she's going to move away, move out.

she knows she has my apartment. she has my car, my arms to carry her boxes.

but sometimes its not enough.

when we were dating, and she would come to me after a fight with her mom, with her stepfather, with whoever, i would tell her it would be okay.

and that would help her. because she knew i wouldnt lie about it. and i would fix it, if i could.

i told her, i said today, that it will be okay.

and then she got quiet.

and she said do you promise?

and i never got a chance to answer her, because she had to hang up right then.

i am about to drive back, to see her. to make sure she is okay.

to drive it into her that it is nothing, nothing she is doing.

she has me worried.

i have myself worried.