My mother is drunk again, slurring her speech and trying to talk over the rest of us at the dinner table. I pick at the limp spaghetti noodles and try to tell myself it's okay, but I ate lunch today for the first time in a long time, just to see if I could do it and be alright after, and I found the answer was no. Well, it's nice to know, isn't it? Tom wrote to me a week ago and I have yet to respond. These questions about what I've been up to, they come once a month, and I'm finding my answers to be sparse. Am I really that boring? Or am I just holding back? It's so hard to fall for someone who lives one continent too far away to hold you when you need holding or call you when you need calling. I just want to hear his voice, you know? And if I can't have that, I guess I don't want anything.