Sometimes I'm scared to ask questions because I'm scared of the answer. The wrong answer is worse than not knowing. Or so I imagine.
I'm thinking I need to give some people a break from me. It hurts too much to be ignored, whatever the reason. But I understand people not wanting to get the least bit involved in me and my sorrowful nonsense. I don't blame them -- if I could be someone else, just for a little while, at this moment, I think I would.
I'm also so scared of being forgotten. If I stop pestering you, please don't forget me. Please.
Posted by thevieve at June 12, 2006 7:10 AMLook here, pookster. The thing is, for every times somebody actually speaks to you they've probably thought of you twenty times. Think about your own patterns - others' are similar. I mean, since I've gotten up today I've thought of you several times - saw a V for Vendetta poster, seen your photo on Flickr, thought about your birthday present, noticed a good fare from L.A. to S.F., reordered some anti-baby hormones that made me sigh. And then over the 45 minutes it took me to compose this little missive in stops and starts. Really, you're not forgotten. Reallyreally.
Posted by: 'nette-nette on June 12, 2006 3:24 PMIf only there was a little buzzer or indicator lamp which would come on whenever someone was thinking about us. :-)
Posted by: ethan on June 15, 2006 7:02 PM