I've been trying to be brave for four days. I began gung-ho and cocky; my armour was fun to wear at first, but it's been getting heavier and heavier, my demeanour more and more bitter. How can you be pleasant when everything you had loved is mocking you? I had associated so many things with him that everything I touch now blows up in my face. And I was laughing at Kristal for being melodramatic. Look who's laughing now: that beanie baby cat, the sheet of paper that satirises love, the little scraps of emails tucked into crucial parts of Jane Austen novels, the novels themselves, the cinema ticket stubs, the CDs, the lip balm, the sheets, the pillows, the blankets, the trousers, the handbag, the bra, the shiny shoes, the American Eagle box, the skirt inside, the dead corsage, the ideals and hopes and na�vet�.

There's a moment just after I wake up when it hits me like chain mail dropped onto my chest. It used to be this fantastic lifting feeling. I was laughing all the time. Inverted fucking emotions.

I got Want Two. Rufus is dressed as Sleeping Beauty in the cover art. Perhaps the Slain Knight of Want One would have been more appropriate for this entry.

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th since 5th october 2001