2004-12-28 O 6:21 p.m.

I feel like a walking oxymoron. I feel like you're so close to me. But then I open my eyes, and you're so far away. Maybe someday I'll open my eyes, and you'll be here.
I'm not sure that I'm ready to see you again. It's been so long. And with little conversation occuring among us, I'm beginning to think that it will be more than slightly awkward. I wish I could make you promise that it won't be. Perhaps it IS good that not too many people knew about us. It's almost a protection to hide behind. I wonder if it can make me invisible...