When I am in distress, I eat. No, fools, I don't mean like everything in sight or even ice cream. I, Liliya Plotkina, eat massive amounts of peanut butter. To me, there is nothing that says self pity like a big tub of chunky peanut butter to drown your worries away in. And today I ate half of our tub before starting to think about LA.... See, the problem's that I am completely at a loss as to what to do or say anymore. He could have made it easy for me. He could have made it easy for him, too, and he could have just hated me and let me hate him. I could have erased you out of my life, Grant Stivers, and you could have erased me out of yours and you'd have been so much happier without me there. It's true. But then I tell myself, why would you even bother to apologize if you didn't care to be friends of any sort? and thats where I hit the blockage. I can't understand what your reasoning is that fits both the hurtful things you said to me and the apology you gave to me today. I can't understand a lot of things, which sucks, and I can't understand why you didn't just say sorry in the first place. The truth is that I missed him like hell the first few days. I'm a weak bastard, yeah, go on, laugh at me. But you know, everyone's got to be emo at one point in their lives at the very least, so why not me and why not now? My chest feels very tight in the spot where I hit the ground on Saturday, I should get that checked out. I am ashamed at how when I saw him all I wanted to do was hug him and start crying. And I think it stupid that I was afraid to let him think anything about me. I'm not enough of a person for anyone to be friends with. I am the origami girl, who folds herself tinier and tinier every time someone decides she's too hard to figure out anyways. If you mean what you say you mean, tomorrow morning you will walk up to me and give me some sort of sign--in fact, why don't you just hand me something, like a blank piece of folded up paper. My ideal fantasy lives in a world where everything does not go according to plan. Sucks. I don't feel too bad right now, as opposed to times when I've felt much, much, much worse. But for some reason I just want to die.