I want someone who will think about me as often as I would them. I want my own Eric. I can't expect anyone else to understand. I had a nice talk with Husani tonight. Starbucks in my confession booth and a nice warm latte is truth serum. I'm glad I know him.

I'm actually going to bed relatively early tonight. I'm really tired and I'm just in a crappy mood. Lying here on my stomach. In my khakis. In my shirt. Barefoot. Sad. Downloading the end half of a subtitled Sailor Moon episode. Listening to nothing but the whirring sound of my laptop. My fingers on the keys. And random sounds filtering in from outside. A plane, a truck.

My eyes hurt and water a little. I'll probably get an eye exam next week.

What would happen if I have to go back to the Caribbean? What if I have to go back for a couple months? I guess if it has to be like that ... then I have no choice. I don't want to though. I really don't. My chest heaves and eyes water right now just thinking about it. Even for a month. I don't want that.

I'd have to give my mice away. I'd miss them. I'd miss everything. A month is a long time. Even longer when you're in a place you don't particularly like.