I rarely write two separate entries in one day, but they are beginning to get long and a bit excessive.

Matt left me a beautifully put entry in my guestbook (let me know). I used have love like what he has found. I heard him say the words last night...I love you. I wanted to hear them, if it was true, because I didn't want to go on thinking that it could all fall through in a matter of days. Don't think for a day that I wanted to come back home. It was easier just to walk away from it all, be thousands of miles away and be happy with that knowing I would make no contact. But when those arms embraced me as the tears finally took over me, warmth consumed my body, and I felt peaceful. I couldn't hold back...but I'm so afraid. I don't want to disappear from *your* life like a bad memory that needs to be erased. There are reminders everywhere of *you*, and being home doesn't make it any easier. I almost began to read old letters, but I was too weak to bring myself up. And then I woke up feeling the overwhelming urge to cry. That empty, hollowed-out feeling, the thoughts that devour every last inch...I wish it would stop snowing here. I hate that fluffy white shit in spring.

9:08 P.M.
He's so good to me...today he picked me up off the ground, I felt so weightless. He held me effortlessly in his arms, my feet nowhere near the floor. Skateboard and helmet in hand, he lifted me and spun me around and I felt like a little girl. The little girl in me was lost so long ago. Innocence gone. Thank you, Steve. It made my goddamned day.

I haven't been able to dream since I arrived home three days ago. Just bad dreams, terrible, deranged dreams that end in my freakish awakening so uncomfortably hot. I ignored my mom when she asked if I wanted dinner. It was an hour ago, but I played the sleepy child. I like being the sleepyheaded child.