Sweet! But Boring! (Damn!)
Sunday, April 29, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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(Posts: More Boring!)
I realize that as my dating life calmed down, and I got into medical school, and am too tired to type out the work drivel, that this blog's main theme has become very close to a "I-love-my-boyfriend" dribble...I know you all are cheering for me, but I don't want you to get high blood sugar from sticking around here! It is more fun and funny to write about mishaps, the hilarious (and often unfortunate) stuff that makes us all slap our foreheads and be glad that it wasn't ACTUALLY US that it happened to. It is less fun to read about people getting along, about people getting to know each other better, about people growing together. Interestingly this is EXACTLY the kind of thing I ALWAYS want to read about and can't ever find. Someone who has a happy, in-depth thing about someone they love. An important relationship. Most often though we write about the odd fight, the weird occurrence, that awkward break-up story. I guess we are gluttons for punishment at heart, enjoying the times when things that should only happen on "Seinfeld" presumably happen to people in real life.
Wait, What?
Increasingly, my inner thoughts about R, as they become deeper and deeper and more personal, have gotten relegated to the leather-bound journal by my bed. It isn't that I don't want to tell you, internets-but it kind of is, too. R and I are working on being real with each other, on being brave enough to say how we feel and what we want and what our dreams are.
And that sort of stuff (unless it lends itself to a funny antedote or discussion) generally needs to stay between two people that have reached a certain point. Because, these things, these moments with him are getting too sweet for me to share, too emotional for me to want to let go of, if even for a moment.
Maybe I'll change my mind. Maybe not.
Things I Liked About Myself This Weekend
1. That I got my hair put up beautifully for the wedding we went to. I felt so much more confident knowing that I looked nicely put together, especially since I was introduced to so many people that have known R for so long.
2. That I didn't drink too much, even though there was an open bar.
3. That I loved the hell out of that man. That he loved the hell out of me.
4. That I actually made it to Mass on Sunday.
5. That I saw 3 friends (that are not R) for a meal or a drink this weekend. Good balance.
6. The way I feel when I listen to the amazingly sweet message from R on Sunday night.
xo
Kate
Pretty as a Prom Date
Wednesday, April 25, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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i'll see you just in time to break the scene.
i'll rent a linen suit and a limousine.
and babe, i beg your pardon for this ordinary place.
i got money for the matinee of strangers,
and a million actors faces.
This weekend we're going to R's cousin's wedding. I have already set up a hair appointment-I'll be up at 7:45 am, sharp, so I can be at Mario Tricoci by 8:30. After balancing my hair color and trimming my ends, I'll have someone put my red-brown hair into soft, romantic curls and sweep it up on the sides. I have some pretty light-green clips for them to throw in that add just a touch of sparkle.
you'll pretty as a prom date
when you take all my blues.
and i won't mind all that goddamn makeup
if you wear your dancing shoes.
I'll duck into a cab to get home, my hair looking effortless and elegant, much too dressy for a Saturday morning at 10 am.
I'll slip on my red silk robe while I make sure that my eyelashes are curled, my manicure is perfect and I'm sweetly perfumed and moisturized from head to toe.
Despite the work, it is so fun to be a girl. To transform into an elegant, poised date for a wedding.
i love the way your bosom makes for an envious blouse,
gonna tie your Sunday dresses in a rope
and you crawl down the house
just to meet me.
I'll finish packing things into my overnight bag, including those fabulous makeup remover pads (Gotta have a way to undo all of that fabulous mascara, girls, right? Besides in the shower--that Marilyn Manson look isn't really me.) I'll fuss and smooth and turn and smile in the full length mirror by my bed. I'll get confident, relaxed and poised while reminding myself for the eight-hundredth time to not slurp soup, stand up straight for pictures and take it easy on the alcohol. I'll remember to really listen to people, wear my easy smile on my face as much as possible and reapply lipstick as needed in the bathroom. When you look the part, the part plays itself.
pretty girls are made for pretty pictures.
and witches are the women on the strip.
but baby, you were cut from cashmere and i'll be lying here,
'neath these sheets and deep asleep
my baby,
my hands tangled in your hair.
We'll head into the wedding together, me neatly tucked under his arm. He tends to lead us gently, his hands encircling mine, him giving me the occasional squeeze or wink like we've got some kind of inside joke going right then. And I'll smile and feel thankful to be with him. That sweetness we have between us is what makes us such a great couple. The fact that we're good looking just makes for pretty pictures. And there is nothing wrong with that.
(Excerpts from Joe Firstman, "Car Door (Dancing in the Aisles)."
Road Trip, Baby
Sunday, April 22, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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2nd Alternate title for this post: (Insert favorite driving music here)
Hi, Friends:
So I have been MIA for a few days here, mainly because Saturday morning we decided to go on a road trip. That's right. Impromptu ROAD TRIP. He gathered up his CD's (he's way better at picking out music than I am) and we both packed a bag and we were off!
It was our first-ever time going somewhere, being together more than an evening and an overnight or whatever. We were together for 24+ hours. And it was wonderful. We were laughing, talking, kissing, sharing, having a great time even on the (long) ride home. If there was going to be a meltdown, it would be then, when we were tired and facing the work week ahead.
There wasn't a point where I felt that I needed to "tolerate" him or that I "needed my space" or any of that. I also didn't feel "clingy" or anything like that. I relaxed and was myself, not worrying about anything but having a good time.
We had a few minor snafus, of course, like that we got pulled over for speeding (and got away with just a warning!) and the hotel gave us two double beds instead of one king (we slept in the same bed anyway!) but so far, so good.
I am catching on to his sense of humor and he to mine a lot more. I feel like we were laughing a TON this weekend, joking about everything and anything that we saw, enjoying ourselves and each other.
He actually did a lot of talking while we were driving, which is always nice. Having him open up means that he trusts me and that we're getting closer. Even if what we're talking about is uncomfortable, unfamiliar or odd to me I am glad that we are able to talk.
I have been getting used to the fact that he doesn't SAY that he loves me very often (he's more of a show-not-tell type, you know?) , so when he was coming around to my car to say a final goodbye, I was taken aback by how he gave me one more kiss and said "I love you." Flustered a bit, I let him know the same. I don't even remember driving home because I was so excited about the trip, heady and distracted from the weekend that we spent and then him telling me that he loves me. Like in the movies.
It would have been nice (and totally fine) for me to stay with him tonight but I didn't have the stuff I need for work tomorrow with me (and I wanted to check on my place) so I headed home. It is good to be in my bed and I am calm, tired and happy. It is nice for me to have the time to reflect on what a great experience that was and on what a peaceful time we had together. I'm hoping that as he goes about his business tonight he'll be thinking of our times together, too.
What is interesting is that the closer we get the less I worry that this won't turn into something serious down the road. If it continues this way and we keep going deeper and deeper together, things will fall into place naturally, as they should. I think I'll keep being me (the calm, cool version of me, if possible) and keep loving him and just let it ride.
xoxo
K
Good PR: A Total Knockout
Tuesday, April 17, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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Specifically, when one of your boyfriend's friends informs him that they think you're a "total knockout."
Yeah! R was kind of matter of fact about telling me the story, and then added that "It's true, you're stunning."
Also, at the concert last weekend, one of R's coworkers, a slim, matter-of-fact brunette, Leslie, was kind enough to take me aside and inform me that R has told all of the paramedics about how I'm going to medical school, about some of the gifts I've given him, etc. She also mentioned that he talks about me a lot (!), but that she didn't want him to get mad at her for telling me that he was talking about me at work. Let's face it, she couldn't have been totally bullshit because she knew things (little, specific things) about me that I DIDN'T TELL HER MYSELF.
More important than what his friends/family think about me is what HE thinks about me, and he is kind enough to think I look beautiful in the morning when I wake up (even with serious bedhead) and to mention that my hair always looks nice. Love him. Love that.
I'm glad that I am physically attractive to others (I am kind of a late bloomer, admittedly, perpetually late to the "cool & sexy" party)...but am still focused on being an intelligent, thoughtful person. Because nerdy and fun has never failed me; and apparently, I look pretty hot geeking out. Hurray!
I want all of you readers to tell someone that you think is beautiful that you feel that way about them, but only if it is true, and only if you can be sincere. Let's spread the positive PR this week.
Weekend Update (not w/Tina Fey)
Sunday, April 15, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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I headed over to R's directly after work Friday, which required some logistical planning in terms of what to pack and what to bring. But, being the total type-A organizer that I am, you all know I had everything. (Except a pair of underwear for Saturday. This posed a problem the next morning. I am a complete priss when it comes to undies. I will not put the same pair on twice.) So now there is a designated section in my gym bag for underwear. Inevitably you all know this will lead to the "Now WHERE did I put that green thong?" and a 15-minute search of my underwear drawer, laundry basket and hamper will ensue to locate said item. But I digress.
We met up with some friends at a bar/club on the southside to see a band, which I wasn't sure I was going to like.....but ended up really enjoying the music. (I also have really good balance-a-bucket-of-beers-on-my-hip skills, for those playing along at home. Must come from those waitressing days....)
Wedding Date, Part II
Saturday AM. A hungover (but surprisingly jovial!) R invited me to his cousin's wedding in a couple of weeks. (This is a family wedding. Woo.) I remember seeing the pretty parchment invitation on his desk and silently started to panic when the weeks went by and he didn't invite me. I played it cool in front of him and didn't ask questions like, "Are you going to that wedding? Do you need a date?" Instead I admitted this small (yet relevant) anxiety to a few of my (more) rational friends, who looked amused and offered me the following gem: "He probably hasn't decided if he's going yet. Or maybe he doesn't like that side of the family. Relax. He'll ask. Get a real problem, K."
Oh, you guys.
You were/are so right, and were confirming what I had only briefly thought in my own mind. (I am getting a little mature voice in there. Somewhere. Its quiet but it is there.) By this morning, I had actually forgotten about the wedding invite and the whole thing so was pleasantly surprised to be invited. Again, another victory in terms of managing my own irrational fears and being mature enough to not press them into our relationship. THANK YOU to all of you who stand by so patiently and hold my hand.
I'll have the apple turnover any day of the week!
Saturday PM. R calls me in the early evening to see what time I was thinking we'd do dinner and start our evening date. (He is getting so good at calling me--when he does the follow up with me it makes me feel like I am so important to him.) We agree on 7:30. Turns out he's been wanting to try this little steakhouse in his neighborhood. The food was amazing, the atmosphere homey, the drinks strong, and the waitstaff personable and really enjoyable.
I love that he likes to go to little-hole-in-the-wall places. The stately old architecture of the place made it a natural for the two of us to share how we've both dreamed of renovating an older home, keeping the old rustic woodwork, ceilings and structures and modernizing other parts of the home. (Besides--there is 0% chance that new construction might have a friendly ghost, right?)
We talked about all kinds of things, and he was gentlemanly and happy. Let's face it: the man loves to eat. And I love to be around him when he's enjoying things, when he's laughing, when he's content and talkative. He talks a million miles an hour when he's excited, starting sentences with, "Oh!" We had salads, steaks, potatoes, drinks, coffee and dessert all to the sounds of Sinatra, Gershwin and other famous crooners. Of course, I ended up with a to-go bag.
This afternoon when he called to see how my day was going (again, awesome with the calling) he informed me that "his cats" had eaten my leftover steak. Without even warming it up. I laughed and told him that I kind of expected that sort of thing to happen, and that the cats are lucky that I like them so much.
An outstanding weekend, all in all.
Writing to you again...
Tuesday, April 10, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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Time Out
Yesterday you had the day off of work. (Today you called off of work, too.) That makes two (2!) whole consecutive days that you didn't have to work. (I'd be jealous but you deserve it.) You looked guilty this morning, suspicious and smirking as you laid in bed with me on a Tuesday (generally terrible Tuesday, as dubbed by you) at 7 am. Seven AM must have been like really sleeping in for you. You were more tired than usual because of my mattress terrorism.*
Just Pack A Bag
You conceded that the way I behaved two nights ago threw you off. I confessed that I was already upset about things I couldn't verbalize; that I had to go to work on Monday morning, that I wasn't spending the night with you. I didn't want to take things out on you that weren't your fault (transference is ugly, friends) so I fled the scene.
You were relentlessly rational: "Kate, I could have waited for five minutes while you ran in and packed an overnight bag if you wanted to stay with me."
I loved you for saying that but at the same time feel like a yutz for not thinking of it myself. I need to just say what it is that I want and not be afraid of that. I'm trying to be better for you, I'm trying to step up and behave like a real adult, all of the time, not just when I feel like it or when things are going well for me. You are not a mind reader. I am stubborn, impatient, passionate, emotional, insecure and confident all at the same time. When I'm thrown off or under a lot of pressure I have a hard time balancing. It's nice to know that if I need to get my balance again, I can grab onto you.
I brought a peace offering of red bull to your house, only because I learned the hard way that Walgreen's here doesn't have beer. I would have brought beer. We spent a pretty nice evening with your friend, and even though you love spending time with him, you hinted to me in a few ways that him sticking around until late was NOT what you had in mind. I reinforced to you that I think it's awesome that you spend time with your friends, and that it is IMPORTANT because while I'm a lot of good things, I certainly can't be everything you need. You squeezed me when I said that.
Mattress Terrorist*
I also terrorized you some more last night, because after your 4:30 am alarm (that you didn't need) went off and woke me up, and I made a trip to the bathroom, I got back in bed on "your" side of the bed. The reason I did this was because "your" side of the bed was the only side I would fit on (laying very carefully on my side) because of the way you were sprawled across the mattress. You apparently did not sleep well after this (?!?!?) because me laying on that side of the bed TOTALLY THREW YOU OFF. I'm sorry!
Look at us, we are trying so hard. Really putting the work in.
Despite me totally wrecking your sleep schedule, we had a good time together last night and this morning. I was comforted by your touch, your kisses, your words. The easy way you apologized for teasing me, you didn't mean to hurt my feelings. I know you didn't mean to do that. You were trying to make me laugh and I wasn't in a place where I could laugh. The way you let me know that you were just teasing me and that you're willing to be patient with me. I respect you so much for that, for being strong enough to apologize to me and share some of the miscommunication even though it was mainly not your fault.
Today I wasn't incredibly dolled up when I left for work (I showered with your pert plus and did a perfunctory makeup job) and you told me that I looked nice. When you say something like that to me I think about it a little all day.
It's nice that you're not sick anymore. It's nice that we got some real time to connect together. A little bit of time with you really helps me to feel much better if I need your physical or verbal reassurance.
Submit me for....bitchalyzation
Sunday, April 08, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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I forgot that part of this relationship thing meant that the good and the bad come together. The good--that when I'm talking with you about something hurtful (that harsh tone of voice you use sometimes when you're stressed or overwhelmed) that you apologize. You listened empathetically. You made sure your face was calm and sweet. You said you understood, but a little too quickly. It was only that your timing was poor, baby.
And then you started teasing me about something else.
And I want to cry. And I want to scream.
And I want to yell at you: Tomorrow's Monday! I have to go back to work and I am not pleased! I wanted to stay at your house! I wanted to hang out with you! But I don't. I let you kiss me once, I let myself out of your truck (probably a bunch of kisses and a hug short from what you had in mind) and walked into my building, stopping to look over my shoulder where you were waving.
I looked so incredibly pretty tonight, too. My hair was TOTALLY PERFECT. Did you notice how long and beautiful my eyelashes looked? I still put a LOT of effort into looking gorgeous when we're going somewhere together, especially if it involves your family or your friends. I take pride in my appearance. I am going to enjoy my 20's, and I am going to celebrate myself--let myself understand my beauty in and out.
I listen patiently to all kinds of stories about people I don't know, places I am not familiar with, things I have no frame of reference for. I make sure that my body language and tone of voice validates the listener. I make damn sure that I'm making eye contact. I am trying so hard to be the best version of me, always.
I want them to think that I fit perfectly into your life.
I want them to think I'm the best thing that ever happened to you.
I know you're one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
Actually sometimes I think that the fact that they all like me so much kind of scares you. I don't think you're used to having a girlfriend who makes you look so good. I know you didn't think I existed or that second chances even do happen.
Let's review the facts:
I am a kick-ass girlfriend.
I dress beautifully, behave thoughtfully and try to offer the BEST version of myself.
I'm self-sufficient.
I'm going to be a doctor.
Normally I would text you now to apologize for being upset, for running away slightly, for not giving you the extra time you probably wanted at the end of the evening. I am NOT apologizing for what I'm doing or how I'm feeling from now on. I am not a doormat.
I wanted to be at your place tonight, snuggled into bed with you now.
OR
I wanted to know that you wanted me to come over tomorrow night, tonight, so I could pack a bag and take it to work with me.
Yeah, I'm about 72% bitchy right now. It's probably good I'm here.
Momma said knock you out
Tuesday, April 03, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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Be alone at night
And I don't like to
hear I'm wrong when I'm right
Today was a hell of a day.
I zebra-striped my face with mascara at work with my tears.
My stomach ached and begged me to not eat for the rest of my life, because if I put food in it, the internal and external pressure surrounding my desk would make me explode, and they would have to scrape me off of the walls.
And I don't like to have the rain on my shoes
but I do love you
but I do love you
It was the kind of day that coming home, when little things here went wrong, like I couldn't find my cute yellow hair-tie or misplaced my stamps to mail my bills, I had to fight back tears.
My grandfather's birthday was today. I spoke to him briefly. He could tell I was sad. He told me he loved me about 3 times, which is a lot for him. We can go three or four conversations and him never say it. Somehow he knew I was melancholy. I shouldn't be surprised. The man has known me my whole life.
I don't like to
see the sky painted grey
and I don't like when
nothing's going my way
It was fitting that it rained today, that the thunder and lightning started up as I was pumping my gas before work today. What were you trying to tell me, God? I know I'm being dramatic but looking back over the day, that was kind of an omen. Also I burned the toast I made myself at R's house this morning. Right then and there, I should have climbed back under his comforter and gone back to sleep.
and I don't like to
be the one with the blues
but I do love you
yes I do love you
Can you imagine what he would have done, coming home at 7 or 8 or 9, finding me still in his bed with my pj's on, still under the covers despite the lightning and thunder?
Love everything about the way you're lovin' me
the way you rest your head upon my shoulder when you sleep
I'd love to kiss you in the rain
I love everything you do
Oh, I do
Last night he was amazing. Totally amazing. Being with him, even for a couple of hours before going to bed is really great. Snuggling in with him and resting my head on his strong chest and feeling his breath on my hair is so nice. I feel so content when I'm laying there with him.
I'm nervous that he doesn't sleep as well if I'm there with him. What is funny is he probably doesn't sleep as well if I am not sleeping well because I'm nervous he's not sleeping well. Whew. That was a complicated sentence.
All I know is that I am exhausted, upset about some of my work situations, and ready for it to be the weekend already. I am that quiet, profound kind of sad. It is that weird river-runs-deep type. Before it gets out of control I will ask for help but as of right now I have it under control. I know that as great as R or any of my friends are, they cannot help me cool my internal climate if I am not willing to let it be cooled. I know that I choose how I react and respond to things and I am trying to choose to be positive.
What is complicated is that normally I am positive and do not have to "choose" or "try" to be positive. Naturally perky, my baseline is that of a person who is pretty content. Now I feel like I'm struggling to climb back up to my baseline, hanging perilously below where I should be. Forcing smiles and appropriate sentences feels like I am dangling even further from my real self. I hate getting knocked out of my groove because it is like I get knocked clear out of myself.
Again I find it odd that I can be so strong and so put together for so long and then get taken down like this. I am usually too proud to break. Guess today I was low on pride. It is weird to have so much happy and sad within me. Normally the sad is so little or non existent that I don't even notice it is there. I guess I need to have these times so I can be thankful that I am generally so blissful.
Lyrics from Lee Ann Rimes "I do love you"
Balancing Act
Sunday, April 01, 2007 | posted by Kate |
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And wonder what's so great about sunshine
Everybody lives and everybody dies
And no one's gonna love you like I do
Hey, sweetie:
I'm supposed to come back over and see you at some point tonight. I got all of my stuff together as of 30 seconds ago. (All of the stuff I'm going to do, anyway.) I even have a bag full of my stuff so I can stay with you and then get ready for work tomorrow morning. I am wearing REALLY CUTE PANTS that say "PINK" on the butt. How cute? They are really, really, REALLY cute. I know that seeing me in them would amuse you. They are so cute they are outlawed in 32 states, to be exact.
You KNEW I was going to be calling you now. I wrote it on that note that I left by your bed when I left your place this afternoon, you feeling sick and laying under the covers (you're obviously not well because normally you would have INSISTED on walking me at least to the door).
When it was getting dark
I didn't need a match
I never needed light to see you
You thought I disappeared
But I was always here
I could never get that far from you
I have told myself all kinds of rational things, like:
You're in the shower.
You're sleeping again, and the REALLY LOUD sound of your phone ringing isn't waking you.
You're sleeping again, and you can't hear the REALLY LOUD (obnoxious) sound of your phone.
And then the irrational things come:
You are in the hospital.
You are totally dying on your rustic hardwood floors and no one is around to help you.
I so TOTALLY cannot be pissed at you for not answering the phone. And I'm not. I'm frustrated. You're sick. But I'm WHINY! I haven't seen you hardly AT ALL in the past week. You have been very apologetic though. When you apologize, I tell you that you can't be sorry for being sick. (I think what your "I'm sorry" means is closer to "I miss seeing you. I'd rather being doing things with you, but I can't," or "I didn't mean to disappoint you. I hate disappointing you.") You have gotten to see that I am still having fun and getting along over here without you. And, you'd be right-I still do have fun and enjoy people when things don't include you. (But I make no mistake: you are my first choice person to spend time with, the one I know I'm going to have the best time with because we're growing into good friends and are already so much more.)
Though I misunderstand
And been misunderstood
So love me 'cause you can
And not because you should
It was a busy week for me, granted. Somehow when I'm busy, though, I get more things done then when I'm not. I do thrive on being busy, somehow the more balls I have in the air, the better I handle all of them. I also have had time to organize myself in here a little more, a little bit of medical school paperwork, a little bit of wardrobe reorganization, putting myself together in a more coherent way. It's April already and baseball starts tomorrow. I have little baseball jerseys that look really sweet, I have a new dress for Easter with a satin bow in the back and three new pairs of lace thongs, I'm comfortable alone but am willing to be better together.
My granddad's birthday is this week. I already mailed his card. I was all over that one.
I keep having these odd dreams at night where I am anxious about finals, about exams, and then panic when I look at a class schedule and realize that I've been enrolled in five or six classes for about three weeks now that I have NEVER attended. I panic and flip through notebooks, praying that I have notes. I never do. I feel ashamed talking to the professors. I wake up, horrified. Being good at organizing myself for school has always been a talent.
It hits me that we haven't really done anything fun, anything "out and about", anything "you and me" for a long time--maybe two or three weeks. We need to fix that. This week when you're better. That dinner and a movie you said you owed me? We've gotta get to it.
I like how you invited me to do things with your family on Easter. I have excitedly told all of my close girlfriends about that one. You noted the fact that I don't have family here. I'd like to think that you are inviting me because you want to include me in on your family stuff, that you want me at your holiday things. That, to you, I'm INVITED TO A HOLIDAY with your FAMILY serious. (If I start to feel like you've invited me because you FEEL SORRY that my family doesn't live here, I'm going to brunch with my friends like I've done before. Where I will wear a gorgeous dress and drink TOO MANY mimosas.) Of course, a hundred times over I'd rather be the blushing, gracious girlfriend, the pretty one at your side over the honeybaked ham and mashed potatoes. I love being your date to things. (*But I want the fact that I'm your date to those things to mean what I want it to mean. See how stubborn I am?) We do make a fabulous public appearance, though, R, like we've been doing it for years. Maybe that's why you want me there. Or maybe you want to see if your Aunt I've heard so much about likes me like the rest of your family does. Either way, I remember that wedding in January, on the way home, how you told me you'd see me across the room and think to yourself that you were glad that I was yours. I believe the exact word you used was, "Mine."
--------
Every time it rains
I know it's good to be alive
Every time it rains
I know I'm trying to survive
You just called me and you are even sicker than when I first visited you this morning. My gut reaction is to be like, "My poor baby! Oh my God!," but you are A GROWN MAN and I know better than to BABY you. Over the course of the conversation I took special care to not sound motherly or tell you what to do, but it was probably still clear that I AM WORRIED. I made sure you had everything you needed, and remembered that you said if something's wrong, you want me to let you handle it. So fine. I'm letting you handle this. (Okay, only because you have plenty of fluids and all of the OTC medication you need.) Of course you don't want me to come and be with you, even though the moral support could do you good, because you don't want me to see you being so sick. I told you that if you reached the point where you didn't want to be alone (which for you would probably be near-death) you should call me or let me know somehow. If you get sicker, please, PLEASE call me. I'll be there.
Love you!
K
(Lyrics from "Everytime it Rains"/Charlotte Martin)
