You said you hated me, Skids. Even if you didn't mean it, you said it. And then you told me that you loved Harley and what the hell am I supposed to do now? Go on being the hetero and watch you suffer because Harley's not into you like that? He's taken - practically fucking married, dude. Do you think Harley would give up Mik for you? He wouldn't, Skids, and I know that you know it.

Why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you in love with Harley? Fuck, man, you've got me. I'm right here, and I'm totally ready to forget this whole heterosexual thing. Please, Skids. One day, could you just look at me - really look, past the piercings and tats and gel and really see me? I'm not hiding my feelings very well, they're right under the surface.

It's almost Halloween and every single fucking thing about this holiday reminds me of you. Last year, when those guys trashed your dorm, who was there to clean it up with you? It sure as hell wasn't Mr. Perfect Harley, was it? Did he help scrub puke off your favorite Hawaiian shirt? No, he didn't - then again, you didn't pay attention to shit like that. I'm just the best friend. Part of the scenery, even if I would go to the ends of the fucking earth if you wanted me to.

I'm supposed to be straight, what the hell am I doing? I take another sip of the day-old coffee that I found in the pot in the kitchen. It hasn't really registered that it's cold yet. I guess I'm a little numb.