I don't want to leave. Don't make me. Someone stop me please.

I walked tonight. I just walked. I walked until I cried. Then I had to stop. I walked all the way over to the east river. That's where I cried. On the pier, listening to the gentle waves hit the old pier pilings. It was so sad. I cried. I used to see water all the time. Water was an okay thing. Water often made me happy. But in the moonlight, the crashing of the ripples against the pier just made me sad and as I turned around to leave, the whole city was in front of me. Every building was illuminated against the newly black sky. It was so beautiful. I cried. I don't want to leave. My soul will not leave. My body will leave. My mind will float inbetween as needed, but it wants to stay here.

Every minute takes me closer to departure. I've already started to pull away. I can feel myself going into hidding. I'm rebuilding that wall I was able to pull down last september. I'm surprised at how fast it rebuilds. It knows where it needs to be and what it needs to protect, so its sealing those places off. I hope I can tear it down again in september. I don't want to hide from New York. But somewhere deep inside I have a feeling that it will be harder to pull it down next time. That I'll tell myself "Why? What's the point? You'll just have to building it again in May." That's when things will be hard.

Returning to LA next summer is not going to be an option. I WILL stay here. Nothing needs to be taken into consideration about that. I will stay in NY. I can't ever go back to LA. I am not me in LA. LA doesn't let me be me.

Today it has been so quiet. It is very quiet behind my wall. I can't hear the outside world. Only my own silent screams of pain as I watch my view of life slowly being shut behind a wall.

The silence is welcome. Noise seems so out of place. I keep focusing on the silence.

The silence of the new bright green ginko leaves sprouting froth from every branch.

I walked into an antique shop. It was a different kind of antique store. Not the kind I expected to find in New York city. It was filled with tin ceiling tiles. Recentlt, I've been noticing tin ceiling tiles in buildings. I thought I stepped into a dream. A man, who worked their knew I was a writer and the first thing he said to me was "Are you getting ideas for your play?" I've never met this man before. How could he possibly know? Maybe it was my mood or the way I was looking at the antiques, he knew I wasn't going to buy, but he kept telling me prices. He was an artist, a painter. His right hand was injured. The tendon had been sliced. His finger had hung limp. What do you do when you can't do what you do anymore? His hand was broken, how did he paint? I would be broken if I couldn't write. It's what keeps me going, moving forward living. I think my whole world would stop if I couldn't write. I'm going to go back. I don't know when. Maybe tomorrow. But I don't think it will be the same in the day. There is something inherently magical about the night.

Before I got to the river and before the antiques store, I saw this building. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but it felt out of place. I just looked at it for a long time. It was a jewish temple. Their was something very old about it. It held something very important and mystical. To be honest, most other jewish temples I've been in before seemed almost fake, like every one was their because it was popular or the in thing. I don't mean to offend anyone. I get a different, but equally odd vibe from christian churches. I'm not very into organized religon. However, something about this place really drew me in. I wanted to enter, but I couldn't. Maybe I'll get up the nerve to go one day. Or I'll ask The Boy about it. I'm not sure what he would know, but he always has good advise. And also, he's jewish. But its the advie that's more important. Also, with him his faith never seemed forced or artificial. I can feel that he believes in faith, not necessarily as written in jewish law, but the spirituality behind it. I tried to find this other temple that is close by that is more geered towards my version of beliefs, but I couldn't find it. It's like it vanished.

There isn't anything more to say. I hope I wake up tomorrow in this mood. This feeling of not existing. Its some how comforting in the sight of the leaving.

Good Bye.

I don't think i've ever been so scared about losing another person before and maybe i'm just working myself up over nothing or maybe i want myself to feel like that because i'm ready to feel again without hurting myself to much. I'm sure i could not have felt like this two years ago. it would have tbeen too damaging, I would not have been able to handle it. I still have problems handling emotions. Like last night. i just shut off from the world and my friends. I think i'm going into a self-protective mode because i know i'm going back to LA and i dont want to get hurt while i'm there, but i know that if i start rebuilding that wall, its going to take time to be torn down and i don't want to have to go through that again. i don't want me to change too much over the summer. i don't want to become a different person, i want The Boy to still like the person I am when i come back. I want things to be alright. He's the person i am so scared of losing. I guess i'm scared of losing the person i am now, too, but only because it might change things between The Boy and I. I don't want us to grow apart over the summer.


I saw his show on Thursday. He is a really talented writer. I hope the world will take his words as far as they deserve to go. Most of the people I know are very talented. I wish I had the right to stand in their shadows.

Then THe Boy and I went out. Just us. I was surprised. I was sure he'd want to hang out with his cast. He didn't say anything. I guess i should have. Anyway, i was being selfish. I wanted him all to myself. We sat in the park for a very long time. I was so beautiful. The night was warm enough, it could have been more so. The park lamps have these pretty lamp shades on them and the lamp light is not so harsh, because of it. We just sat there, the grass was a very pretty hue. I had that deep urge to tell him I loved him again, but not in the park, before the park and i bit my tongue and closed my eyes. When i was in the park i thought then might be the time to say it, but i couldn't bring myself to. I just couldn't. Hopefully, because we leave. Its such a hard thing to do. Those words are very dangerous and powerful. And somewhere in the back on my head everytime I hear myself telling him, i hear his voice saying "now, don't get carried away", in that playful way he does, but i know he means it. that's what stops me. I don't think i should be as scared as I am, but to really mean the full emotion behind those words is scary. You have to be willing to rip out your own soul and show the person you care so much about the deepest points and be completely bare and honest in front of them. You can't have anything stand between you. I've been completely honest with him the whole time. I haven't had any reason not too, but i also think somewhere deep inside, I know he's better then i am and by being completely honest, i'm trying to tell him that i'm not good for him and that he should find someone else. But him leaving would hurt so much.



love is that last leaf hanging on to that tree despite being pelted by freezing rain



Its been raining tonight and i was sleep and then i suddenly woke up and was so hot, but being hot didn't make sense. i took off my shirt and tried to fall back asleep, but i couldn't so i went walking. I just walked. in the pouring rain. i eventuall got pizza, but i was just walking, trying to find what I was looking for. I crossed Cooper St. and some one yelled from a passing car "Why are you by yourself?". I didn't even turn and and look at them. In my head I said 'I'm not alone. I have The Boy." But that wasn't the answer to the question. Why am I so often by myself? Its easier to look for what missing that way. You can't find yourself, when you're with other people. You must have a sense of self around other people. By yourself, it doesn't matter and you can look all you want and you don't have to find anything. Its okay not to find yourself. Sometimes its good to be lost. As long as you know that you're lost. Then its okay.

I started packing my stuff today. The movers come on tuesday. I also slept a lot. packing is depressing when you don't want to move and I sleep when i'm depressed. its sad seeing a life you don't want to leave, even for only 4 months, put away in boxes. Seeing The Boys stuff in boxes thursday night was sad to. Even thing is so sad, but I don't have time to deal with the sadness. I have things to write; essays and scripts to finish, I have an italian final on monday and I have work and packing and moving and everything. I hope the 5th will be calm. My planner says "Reserved for The Boy" on thursday. And that's what I plan to do.
While sitting on the park with The Boy after his show, another friend walked by and we where chatting a bit, then The Boy briefly mentioned, that he might be in LA very very briefly during the summer because of this internship he has. I don't think he told me because he didn't want me to get my hopes up, but I'm not counting on it. I would be the most amazing thing ever. But what are the odds?

Countrybird calls. I must be off.