Written on 5/16 at around 5 p.m.

Reading blogs is a funny way to understand someone’s life. I just called Dan on the phone, wondered if he was a bit down the way he was talking. I haven’t been reading blogs for a few days, so I didn’t know what a number of you all may. I’ve been busy, too busy to write, too busy to read? Obviously I need to change some priorities. Now I've got a bit of a clue. I’m sorry Dan. I’m really, really sorry Diana.

Why does this stuff happen, does it really make any of us stronger? Is it beneficial that we become calloused, that we put up walls, that the flavor is pulled from tender words? Why does one feel love, and it remains unrequited? Is there a higher and nobler reason for the pain? Are we doing something wrong in opening our hearts so? Tell me if you know.