You Own A Tic Tac. Gum Is

It's Always Been Hard To Call Myself A Writer. I Think A Part Of Me Still Thinks It's Too Good To Be True.

I Would Miss Colby, But It Wasn't Going Anywhere. All The More Reason Why I Should.

Well, It's True That I Have Been Hurt In My Life. Quite A Bit. But It's Also True That I Have Loved, And Been Loved. And That Carries A Weight Of Its Own. A Greater Weight, In My Opinion. It's Like That Pie Chart We Talked About Earlier. In The End, I'll Look Back On My Life And See That The Greatest Piece Of It Was Love. The Problems, The Divorces, The Sadness... Those Will Be There Too, But Just Smaller Slivers, Tiny Pieces.

I Walked Over, My Eyes Scanning Luna Blu, My House, And Dave's. But It Was The Building Behind Them, That Empty Hotel, That Had The Tiniest Light, Provided By One Word, Written In Fluorescent Paint. Maybe It Wasn't What Was Once There, In Real Life. But In This One, It Said It All: Stay.

That's Not A Real Answer.' Says Who?' Says Me. I Mean Real Fear, Like Of Failure, Of Death, Of Regret. Like That. Something That Keeps You Awake Nights, Questioning Your Very Existence.' Clowns.