I told Sam Coulson, the man who had broken my heart that I would meet him for dinner- and not only that- that I would meet him at the same café that Philippe worked at. I, Josie Gellar, had gone completely insane.

When I got home from the café I couldn't sleep so I decided to write- something that I really hadn't done in a while. So, putting on my Norah Jones CD, I sat down with my journal.

Why did I do it? Why? Why, why, why? Why did I go? Why didn't he come? Why did I take Philippe's number? Sometimes I really just don't know what I'm thinking. Sure, Philippe's REALLY cute and really sweet, but he's only 18. The last thing I need right now is to break another man's heart. Or put myself out there again. The last thing I need is another's pitcher's mound incident. But I took the number. Stupid, silly me took the number and actually made him think that I would call him. Then again, who knows? Maybe I will call him. Just to let him know that I can't see him. Ever. After all...he deserves that much, right?