Dear Kyle Jones,

This whole divulging the last 3 months of my life thing makes me nervous. I don't write out the events as they happened anymore because I don't trust myself to not hurt or upset people. You know that story as well as i do. I don't want any more explosions like that. But, because you are my most avid and interested reader, I'm making an exception in the "tell the truth in a way that can be interpreted as your opinion" rule.
I've decided that, instead of going on a long, winding narrative which would be interesting but long-winded, I'm going to give you a series of person-based vignettes which will make for a shorter, more controlled narrative. I'm more interested in people than events anyways. I'm not even sure what I could call a beginning, because it started in about three different places. But I guess Jack makes a good enough beginning.

JACK
Jack is my little brother's friend, and he's got an entire post dedicated to him and what happened was as follows: Jack and I made out a few times. One of those times was in my apartment. One of those times was right after the NIU shooting. One of those times was in my roommate's bedroom. These were all the same time. Meg didn't dig that, to put it nicely. I got in trouble, every once of it i probably deserved. I'm selfish and biased, so I can't say that i definitely did. After that one time, I had to leave. Not because I was forced out but because I don't do well when people are angry with me. I can't handle it, even if i deserve it. So after Jack left, and after my little brother (who was there the day after) left, and after Meg stopped talking to me, I left. That night was the last time i saw Michael.

MICHAEL
So Michael's place was my refuge from november to february 19th. I went there when i needed a good cuddle, or a good fuck, or just to get away from my living situation. Micheal is, of course, still around, but I haven't been back. I do miss him, please don't misunderstand, but I'm afraid. I do have a conscience, and I do have morals, but I'm not very good at using them. I'm worried that I might do something that i would have to lie about later. So I stay away, and it breaks my heart. The last time I saw him, I was headed for a train to get me out of the city. I didn't know it then, but I was also headed for someone life changing.

ARYN
On that train was my then favorite conductor, now boyfriend. The one who always remembered me and who would tell me that I was breaking his heart when i had a boyfriend who wasn't him. I hoped that he was serious when he said that to me a year ago. I had left him a card and he didn't get it, so he gave me his phone number and email address. I went home beaming, because regardless of what happened next i would never frantically search craigslist and post desperate ads, trying to connect with him. He was, after all, the one who taught me that it was ok to love strangers. I would have been happy with just that, but when I texted him the following monday he told me that he wanted to hold my hand. And I told him that I would love to let him hold my hand. And he invited me to stay at his house the following night (tuesday the 26th). And I did. We talked and I kissed him, and found myself asking him to be my boyfriend the very next morning, after we had separated. And it just keeps getting better. I chose monogamy for this man, and I am amazed at every day that goes by where I even get to text him. I'm getting ahead of myself though, there's a missing weekend. An obliviously missing weekend at that, but it's important, because that's when I met Ian.

IAN
Not to be confused with the Ian from the summer, this Ian is a straight edge vegan who is NOT trying to get in my pants. I fled to Urbana on thursday, to escape the things I need to escape when I go and visit Andrea and Julie. Namely, sobriety. While getting my drink on, I ran into a kid with a beard drinking a shirley temple. This was Ian. It was his birthday. Note that I was pretty drunk. He talked to me anyways, and we discussed veganism and vegetarianism and chicago. I had heard about him before, and was told that he judged people. That is an untrue statement, because I was a drunk nonvegan smoker and he went home and friended me on facebook. Before that happened we (and by we i mean Ian, Ian's friend Petey, Andrea, Andrea's roommate Hanako, this guy named Adam who really liked modest mouse, and myself)all walked to Perkins for french fries. Ian gave me free coffee when I was leaving for the north. That weekend also entailed getting hideously drunk for free at some stupid bar and watching people work on art. When I got home Ian had successfully facebooked my AIM screen name, and so we continued talking. When he was in chicago to get a key to his new apartment and to see ghost mice, we hung out. There was a very long walk and the ghost mice show. This was where I saw meg for the first time in almost a month.Of course, nothing was repaired then, but it was a start. We recently drove down to urbana, where I saw kimya dawson and found out that Nigel had meningitis.

NIGEL AND GENEVIEVE
Nigel is my five year old little brother. He managed to come down with bacterial meningitis. The entire family was prescribed antibiotics but I refused to take them. Even Genevieve had to get a shot. Genevieve was born on easter sunday. After she was born, I went to the parking lot to have a cigarette and threw up. it was pink, from flamin' hots and coffee. The flamin' hots were a bad idea. The pink was appropriate, though. I later went back to my apartment to pick up pills, and it was a total mess. I lost it, and started making plans to move. I grabbed the wrong pills, however, and had to go back a day or two later. This time I entered to find meg standing in the middle of the living room in shock. Her ex- girlfriend had overdosed on heroin. Naturally I stayed. I follow the rules, and the mess was explained. So we're good, thank god.

there were some other bits, like when a drunk man named Abel followed me to my psychiatrist's office and talked to me the entire way, and when my shoes broke and i got the flu in the same day, and a whole lot of taking care of my mother. And I'm working on that film.
Right now, I'm sitting in front of a computar at my parents' house when i should be sleeping. I found a folder of poetry from when I was in high school while looking for blank business cards. I really feel summed up by the symbols on my arm, which I definitely think I'll get as a tattoo. roughly translated, they say "Anything might happen, but don't lose hope. Keep pressing forward and defend yourself and your beliefs. At the end of the day, there will always be a safe place to rest, care if you're sick, and food if you're hungry." I have found that to be so true.
Stupidly intense and complex 3 months, to add to my stupidly complex and intense last year, to add to my stupidly intense and complex life. My dad said it best. Nothing's ever easy for this family.
Any questions?