I broke down once again to write here. I just can't leave, no matter how much I down the fact that this diary makes it that much easier for people to get in contact with each other less and less.

Tonight was ridiculous. We partied at Loyola with the girls (who are oh-so-much fun). Things were fun: I got fuzzay, met some new people, and I had an enormous chat with Bobby about relationships, followed by his telling me that he loves me. But the night turned sour as we got back home. Danielle was too drunk to get out of the car (sounds familiar), and when she did, she sat on the curb and puked her little brains out, crying and gagging. Bobby was in a bad mood, running around his neighborhood punching objects, resulting in bleeding from the hands. Charlie tried to get me to open up to him, but I was being stubborn. And Danielle...she just pissed me off by being her drunk self. But at some point before I left, Bobby told me that I was the best, that he loved me, and that I meant more to him than anything else, which I didn't quite take to heart considering that he was quite intoxicated.

I got home and Charlie called me. But as always, he started falling asleep on the phone. It was a quick conversation. And now I'm sitting here, eating sunflower seeds at 3 AM, hoping that a girl I don't even know will be okay.