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5:19 p.m. - August 21, 2003
Something's not right
Of course. Eli calls, and we make plans (how simple that sounds, and as understated), and Spec calls and he knows. I do not belong to him, I am not dating him, I am not in a relationship with him, I can do as I please and fuck him and his threats and you're turning into a faggot like I always knew you were and it never stops. It's okay for him, not for me as if he's branded me and I have to ask to use the restroom. It's tired and old and I've had enough and of course I cry and he yells and I'm glad he's not nearby for now.


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