March 29, 2002 | 4:54 p.m.
what more could you ask for.

if tongues are invitations then the mail has stopped coming my way. we can call it a holiday, if it makes breaking excuses easier.

i still hurt the same. every time.

and i swore off wishing for anyone/thing. but fall into bed each night wasting wishes for you (i say waste because you are worth it but never mine). and i swore i was used to this. but really. how could i be.

how can i keep not giving up, when youre begging me to with such subtle strength?