Beyond this last mention of last night's events, you are gone. Like the dirt washed away by last night's rain. Maybe the rain is a metaphorical symbol. Cleansing away the old, and bringing to light the new.

Please don't ever call, IM, or contact me in any way. You hurt me too much, and I'm afraid I might forgive you.

Last night, I found out who my real friends were, and who they weren't. Carolyn, Beth, Laura, Corey, Dave, Devon, thank you so much for being there when I needed you last night. Carolyn, Beth, and Laura, if you hadn't come to rescue me, I probably would still be stuck on the side of Rte. 102... Thank you so much.

What happened? An interesting story for sure.

On Sunday, I was a bitch to the One Who No Longer Exists (aka Catfish) because he was a dick to me. I was sick of fighting though, so I headed up to Providence to see his hockey game and apologize. In retrospect, I'm kind of glad I didn't get the chance.

The long and short of it is, "I don't know where Rte. 95 is; I can't help you." CLICK! Which is exactly what he said when I called him, as I was going 50 mph down Rte. 95 in South Providence, my car overheating.

Carolyn, Beth and Laura were the ones to rescue me, and for that I am extremely thankful. Like I said, I know who my friends are, and who they aren't.

I am horribly depressed. I'm going to bed... For the rest of the day.

(And people wonder why I have trust issues? No more questions, please.)