12/23/2002 - 9:29 p.m. | fuck

It shouldn't have worked out this way. It really shouldn't. I mean, we all have choices in our lives, and we have to make them, and I'm not saying that this was neccasrily the wrong choice. I just think we handled it poorly. Even if it does help everyone, there will be animosity. And as much as we joke and rationalize and get pissed off and make excuses and put it off, it's gonna come, and it's gonna make things awful. There was no need to keep things secret; explanation would've made things better in the long run. But you get so chicken shit (right, Alanis?) and you don't wanna do it, and now it's too late, and bleh. There were other options. I'm so fucking stupid.

Don't hate us. We don't hate you. We fucked up, but we were trying to make things better. In our minds, at least. Jesus Christ, my stomach.

Sorry for being so vague. Hopefully, I can explain in a while. As my dad said, however, this is not my finest hour.