January 10

I know you’re playing a gig right now. I wish I could hear you play.

And I still miss you. I want to go back to Boston mostly because I’m dying to know what happens. I don’t know what the talk is going to be like—but maybe I’m being presumptuous. Maybe there will be no talk because you won’t have figured things out by then. I shouldn’t hold my breath.

But every time I look at you and her and I think about you and me and sometimes I think that I should just withdraw. You’ve known each other for years and are from the same place and your families are all super chummy with each other. Why would you want to be with me if you can be with her anyway?

I sometimes feel like the third wheel here. It’s not a story about how something she did broke us up and hurt me—it’s a story about you two and how I stood in the way.