Today I saw you. I was hoping, very deep down inside myself, that I wouldn't see you. And, I did.

You were coming from the business building, wearing your A&F sweater, you know, the maroon and blue one... and you were carrying your hat in your hand. You walked with a slight discomfort, partly (I could tell) was from seeing me.

I'm sorry to discomfort you, Alex.

But, have you ever stopped to think about the times that you might have "discomforted" me? It's happened. Believe me. Like last weekend, while you were drunk off your ass. Did I push you aside? Did I throw you on the backburner, as you so often do me? No. I answered your call with cheer in my voice, ready to spend another ten hours on the phone with you. And I did.

You made me feel like an angel. You made me feel like I was someone, someone you loved and wanted, and cared for.

I was comfortable. Until you passed on the news. The news that I just didn't "measure up" to you. Of course, you didnt say it like that, but we all know that it would have saved you a few fake tears and a whole hour's worth of breath... had you said it that way.

I don't hate you, Alex. I dislike you very much, but only because you have hurt me so many times, that it's amazing I haven't made it to the "numb" stage yet. I'm right at that stage... you know... where you're getting over it, feeling better...

I believe they call it comfort. But, then again, you would know all about comfort... woulnd't you?