Once on a Marching Band trip, I decided to sit by myself on the way home to see if anyone would miss me. I stared out the window and quietly sang "The Minstrel Boy" over and over again. When we got back to school, Ham 'n' Eggs asked me if I was okay, and said Skeeter told her I looked as if I'd been impaled. I remember that story because right now I do feel as if I've been impaled. I looked into my eyes last night just before I went to bed and again this morning; I can't put my finger on what exactly it is, but something that should be there isn't.

She emailed me last night. The time stamp puts it at about the time I fell asleep. "are you ok?" It's nice to know the world still has it's sick fucking sense of humor.