So. Here I am. There's been something on my mind for a while. Today is the 9th... well, 10th now, after midnight. So it's a day closer. Tomorrow now, I guess, is the 11th. It's the girl I keep calling the 'Evil Ex's birthday. She'll be 18. It actually took me a while to remember how old she was, compared to me. I started remembering about it while writing the date on the packing slips at work. And I just started thinking about what a fucking asshole I am for taking a damned year and a half to forgive this girl, who every other moment with felt so great and wonderful. Well, it doesn't help, but I'm going to go through all the 'literature' on this page and change all the 'Evil Ex's to 'Roo's. It was one of her nicknames, I was never clear on how she got it. It had to do with that kangaroo from Winnie the Pooh. I've been trying to think of something else to call her, but nothing came to mind til tonight for some reason. God, I feel terrible. I had a nice crying fit in the car on the way home. I don't know what else to say. I know not much in this is going to make any sense. But I do miss her. She was my first love. I wonder if she ever thinks about me anymore. I wonder if she thinks good things if she does. I just keep thinking what could I have done to keep her from doing that, from cheating. And I just don't know. I wonder if she kept the pictures of us, or of me. I remember one she took of me and her psychotic sister Sarah's two year old kid that we called 'Stupidbaby', and I was wearing this girdle thing and stockings. That kid might see it one day and be just screwed out of his mind. And that damned cat we called 'Fuckingcat'... oh wow. Once, a long time ago she put this little scar on my hand, and I thought it disappeared... but tonight I found the slightest trace of it again. God, why don't I start wallowing, eh? Well, I think I'm going to allow myself this time, tonight anyhow.

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