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at 2004-08-27 around 9:45 a.m.

Oh my, today is going to be a long one.

We had quite a storm here last night. It has been very heavy and humid here for days, and I was hoping this would bring some relief, but no. It�s still heavy and humid. Maybe we�ll get another.

It was so hot when we were going to bed, Nick positioned a fan so it blew directly on us and put it on high. (We sleep in the basement, but for some reason it�s always hotter than the rest of the house. Figure that one out.) I hate the fan noise, but I was grateful for the breeze so I ignored it as best I could and fell into a somewhat fitful sleep. I couldn�t get comfortable and kept waking up, until finally, around two o�clock, a terrific thunderstorm started up. I love thunderstorms, so I decided to stay up and watch it from my tiny basement window. About half an hour later, the storm was still raging, but neither Nick nor the boys had woken up until � CRACK! The whole basement lit up, the house shook, and the power went out. Damn. I waited a few minutes to see if it was going to go back on, and when it didn�t I grabbed my PDA and set that alarm so I didn�t have to wait around for the power. I slept in short bits after that, afraid my sleep-addled brain had set the PDA alarm wrong. I had more vivid dreams than usual, dreams I don�t like to think were connected to anything in my head as there was a vaguely sexual encounter with a coworker and a violent one with Nick. Scary stuff, this brain of mine. I also had an extremely vivid, wonderful dream about J., which always puts me in a mood. I feel like I�m cheating on Nick thinking about him, but that�s silly and I know it. It�s a complicated situation, I guess.

J. was my high school sweetheart, but like everything else in my life, this was not your normal high school sweetheart deal. We never acknowledged what was going on with us. We didn�t want to label it, but more than that, we didn�t want that kind of pressure. What we had was fun, and we saw what happened to our friends who were �boyfriend� and �girlfriend.� It never turned out well, and neither of us was into the drama that our high school crowd seemed to feed on. We carried on not in secret exactly, but certainly not out in the open. We even dated other people while still seeing each other. (Though I will admit that seeing him with other girls in school put a horrible knot in my stomach. I never asked him how he felt about it.) It worked for us, in our way.

After high school, we still had plenty of reasons to see each other as his little sister was (and still is) one of my best friends. When she attempted suicide, I was the one who he called to help him clean up her room because he couldn�t bear to see it. He sat on her bed trying not to cry while I cleaned up the remains of a jumbo bottle of Tylenol, a bloody kitchen knife, and several bloody razor blades. We brought her McDonalds in the hospital and he yelled at me for not being more upset. Why would I be upset? She had survived.

We both (along with the rest of our group) got deeply into drugs after that. J. and I drifted in and out of each others lives. He located his birth father in Mount Clemens, Michigan and moved there to make up for lost time. I visited a few times with his sister and we partied like rock stars. When his sister and I went to jail (maybe I�ll tell that story sometime, not now), he visited, wrote letters, and accepted collect calls. I got out, we spent some time, and I started dating someone else.

He called me from Michigan in the middle of the night one night, telling me that he wanted to settle down now. He wanted to get married, he said, and have babies. We were meant for each other, he said. He was in tears �from thinking about things,� he said. He sounded different, beaten down. I asked him if he was sure nothing was wrong. He said that everything was wrong and he was coming home for me. That was the last time I talked to him.

I was working at the parts store, on work release (again) when his sister ran into the store, her face streaked with tears. She told me he had died of an overdose, and the funeral would be in Michigan. I couldn�t go. It would take a court order to get me out of the state of Illinois, and even if I could get one, it would take longer than I had. I sat on the floor in the middle of the store and cried. Actually I didn�t stop crying for months. I was a mess.

It wasn�t until after his death that I found out everyone knew about us. His friends still give me hugs when they see me at the bar or the gas station. They treat me differently. I have been touched by something, tainted almost. His best friend told me once that he had had a crush on me all through high school, but would never dream of approaching me even now out of respect for J., and most of the guys in the group felt the same way. I had no idea.

I bring this up because all day, the radio has been playing our songs. I heard a newish song, �She Will Be Loved� by Maroon 5, and it sounds just like us. I look at Lukas and I see J. They have the same eyes, eyes that I don�t know where he got. Big, beautiful eyes so brown they�re almost maroon. Nick has hazel eyes, mine are green. Strange.

Sorry for the long buzzkill entry. But that�s how I�m feeling today.

Kids are:

Last person who pissed me off:

Heard in my house:

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