Days are seeming more solid now, plodding and plowing along like a dancing march. I am doing things!

Dylan and I went on a walk in the rain, escaping from his friends who sat with their amiably competing egos and studied nonchalance. We ran inelegantly, him blind as a bat without his glasses and me with my determined love of puddles. Highland park, and he shivers as he boxes me into being truthful. I'm so warm, the steam rises off my clothes: I am as cheerfully irreverent as I ever am with him.

He's still asking me why AJ and not him. He's the one who gave me a rose, took me to the uppermost of a parking garage to show me the painted rooftops. Dylan thinks that it's because AJ was honest with me--to tell the truth, I have no fucking clue except he cared and AJ did not. How pathetic is that?

And as quick as thought, it's gone. Where am I going? What the frelling hell am I doing? What. Where. Why? Who? Whatwhatwhat?