Dead.

I'm as good as fucking dead.
If she finds out.
I'm going to be 6 feet under.
Like holy shit.
I can't believe you.

We hung out again today.
I still don't know what we talked about.
Hell.
We just got off the phone.
And hardly anything is registering.
YOU ACTUALLY LICKED MY FACE!
You're such a whore.
Such a fucking whore.
And my tongue is soft?
What?
Awk. Ward.

Hes in here.
He's too close.
He needs to go away.

You called me fat today.
You faggot.
You fucking faggot.
Dean, why do you have such weird friends?
Why do you have to be so fat?
My first reaction:
Fuck. You.
I almost hit you.
Almost.
I was so close.
Then that would have given you the satisfaction of knowing my weight bothers me.
So damn you to Hell.
I hope Satan eats you piece by peice.
Starting with your tiny dick.

You called me today.
It was a reason to smile.
Even though you made a Charlie-related comment.
Even if it WAS discreate.
I caught it.
I totally caught it.

Wow.
TWO phone conversations.
IN ONE DAY!
Not 2 weeks.
ONE DAY.
I feel accomplished.(: