Carpe Diem

Diane and I are in the Tauntaun, and the sky is overcast (but just barely). It's mid-afternoon, and I suspect we will make it to Palos Verdes by 7:30. After refueling, Diane begs me to let her drive, even though she does not possess a driver's license. I give her the keys. She pulls onto the highway, and I say this:
"Diane, I want to be clear on something," I begin, "and I want this to be the last time we have this conversation."
Diane keeps driving, but she raises her eyebrows.
"I can't handle this anymore", I say. "I have been very clear about my feelings toward you. I have run out of ways to say I love You. So this is it. You have 3 weeks."
"I have 3 weeks to do what?"
"You have 3 weeks to decide if You want to be with me. And if your answer is that you do not want to be with me, I don't want to hang out with You, ever."
(silence)
"Chuck, I can't guarantee that I will be able to answer that question."
"You have to."
"This is unfair."
"I don't care."
(silence)
"If you think you love me so much, how would you be able to just cut off all contact with me?" Diane says. "That makes me question your sincerity."
"You know how these things work," I say. "This is how these things work."
(silence)
"That is so fucked-up," she says. "I can't decide whether or not I love you just because you say I have to."
"Well, maybe You can't. And if You can't decide, that's fine. But I will take 'I don't know' as a no, because it always means the same thing anyway."
"But if I haven't been able to make that decision in 2 years," she asks. "Why do you think I'll be able to make it in 3 weeks?"
"Because You don't have any other alternative. This is it. And even if You make no decision, that will count as a decision. So, in a way, there'sd really no pressure. I'll get back to you in 3 weeks, and You can tell me how you naturally feel, and that will dictate everything else.
Diane tries to pout but reflexively coughs. She sighs.
"Okay," she finally says. Maybe 20 seconds pass. "So this is your ultimatum?"
"This is my ultimatum," I respond. "My ultimatum has been made."
"That's fucked-up," says Diane. "You're fucked-up. But...okay. I'll make this fucked-up decision to satisfy the statute of limitations on your fucked-up ultimatum."
"Thank You," I say. "You know this is for the best."

I look away. Flags, followed by a wide, sweeping right turn. I can remember this clearly, because that's when I started to think that everything in my life would improve if we drove off the edge of those fucking cliffs.

End of an era. Thank you, McKenzie Becker. for everything youve done. nothing has ever made me happier. love always and forever,Jack Attack

A man said to the Universe: "Sir, I exist!" "However", replied the Universe, "the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation". Bravo Stephen Crane, bravo. There aren't many situations that stand as true as this one, and none that are more relevant than this at the moment.


or in this case... ma'am?

Dougie

Did it hurt?
Did it hurt?
Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, girl?

Did it hurt?
Did it hurt?
Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, girl?

La dada dada da da
La dada da da
La dada dada da da
La dada da da

<3

To answer Your question:

i don't really know.

everyday i come thisclose to calling you.

i come so close to driving the long way home, and parking just down the block, in our usual spot, and sifting through, like we always do.

but then i take a gander at my left hand. right where the heart used to always go. then i remember why.

you're dying from this? really? you did this.

it killed me.

close my eyes, make a wish, may she ditch the sinful ways that have plagued her to this day,

close my eyes, make a wish,i cant change her please change her she's in danger of driving me away...

scars heal faster then broken hearts.

"Your friends warned you: this bad bad boy makes her feel so good, this bad bad boy makes her feel SO good."

i still read what you wrote everyday. because after all, people don't forget.

what have you done lately?

p.s:

I can't relax. If you like me then check yes

and meet me after class.

R.I.P.

and you complain about a bad math grade.
and you complain about how your boyfriend cares too much.
and you complain about how he lied
and you complain about how much she complains.
and you complain that he looks at you funny.
and you complain about everything.
and I complain about everything.

and we should be happy we're alive.
and we should be happy we can complain.

-Kristin O'Brien

Make a wish...