Today I was walking to my locker after my last class. I was listening to Stars "Calender Girl." I started to cry. Hard. I couldn't stop. I found one of my problems and tried to talk to him, leaning my head against the window with tears streaming down my face, yelling "FUCK!" and talking about how everything was wrong. I spoke into my folded up arms and he commented that he couldn't understand what I was saying. He read his comic book. I told him I had to catch my bus, said goodbye, and pushed him. He stumbled backwards a step or two and said "What?" And I told him he should listen to me and he argued that he didn't know what to say. Does he not understand that I don't care if he talks? I just wanted him to listen to me and hold me and not read his comic book while I am standing next to him falling to pieces. It should not be a hard idea to get your mind around. He walked me to my bus and said he'd go with me if he could. I stumbled onto my bus and collapsed sobbing into my seat. Lately I've been wondering why I'm with him. Lately I've been wondering why I'm alive.