i'm going to the doctor later to have them, hopefully, take the lump out or drain it or refer me to a damn specialist. i'm tired of this.

i mean, i feel better than i have recently, i'm still hungry as hell and tired, but it's not as much as it was.

the lump has gotten bigger. the lump has made the tissue around it start to look almost bruised. the lump has started making its presence known when i swallow.

i need to hang clothes up, but i'm not going to, not yet.

i need to get a hair cut. i feel shaggy and i want to kind of look my best for emily.

my roommates cat is sleeping where ever i am not sitting. i was sitting in my chair, she was sleeping on my bed. i'm sitting on my bed, she's sleeping in my chair.

the girl might be engaged now.

to a man i don't know too much about, not enough about, and as such, i don't trust him.

the girl. repeat with me. might be engaged.

the first person i was ever completely horribly smitten with.

my best friend.

the person who made me complete myself. who's a good chunk of who i am today.

might be engaged.

soon, i might be standing at her wedding, watching her walk down that aisle insanely beautiful.

it makes me feel old.

if the girl gets married, if she avows her life away for love, if she makes that incredibly huge commitment, it'll make me feel lonely.

this chunk of myself, this piece of who i am, this incredible source of love in my life, will be elsewhere.

and so it must be with me, i guess, eventually. if i find the right girl who doesn't move across the country. or if i get the guts up to move across the country and it all works out.

if the lump doesn't kill me first.

and now i sleep.