I've been driving too fast again, don't think I remember how to go slow. Will someone pull me aside one night, and back to slowness let me know? Grey skies didn't bring screaming. At least, none that I heard. I went to my sister's to watch the dogs for a bit and on the way home I go in an accident and collided with sadness. I don't know how it happened. I never do. It comes now and again without reason or pattern, except that it always comes. I'm tired of love stories without understanding the concept. I hate knowing the word lust without knowing its feeling. I hate hearing about happily ever afters when I dont see the happiness. And most of all, I hate thinking of my future every day and wondering when it will come. Why is it always "some day"? What about today? David said he was moving to Tuscon to be with Diane. I told him good luck. It would have been hypocritical of me to say anything else. David is another one of those people that just float through high school sitting in the back of the class drawing and somehow always knows the answer. You might call him gothic, but really, he just likes wearing black. Anyway, he always comes up with wild ideas about his life. He moved out a few months ago and is living with a friend. Point in this being, I had to tell him good luck because, though i hate to admit, I'm very proud of him for moving on a wish, a desire, a dream. I'm short on that. And this sickness, this monthly or bimonthly experience is seeping at the core. I couldn't cry because I didn't feel anything. I tried thinking about past nights and drew blanks. Romantic moments? I only saw them as games, teenage games that we all must play. You date and kiss and call it a night. So where is the real stuff? WHAT is the real stuff? Even if now, after all this time, I've opened up, who have I opened up for? Carrie