it was all i wanted.  he was all i wanted, why didn't he understand?  this
was my destiny, when you fall in love, it's forever, right?  "the more
you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right? yeh!"  well damnit,
i've suffered enough.  i thought this was supposed to feel good; this whole
love thing.  damn him to hell!

  six hours to nashville..  hey that could be a song, maybe it is a song.
maybe i'll get into country music, maybe i'll buy a leather skirt and pick
up all the young innocent cowboys.  damn him!  maybe i'll turn around and
kill him, that'd bring an end to the pain, then maybe i can get on with my
life.  why do guys do that, they all do, they all play with your heart,
and they only do it so they can get "a piece."

  five hours to nashville..  that could be a song too..  maybe i'll get
back into my poetry writing again..  maybe i'll get famous off of it.
guess it's a good thing i've got the pain to write about.  damn him, i hope
he dies...  i'll still love him, but at least he'll be dead.  my last
chance for happiness, gone.  time to listen to a tape...   hmm, a mix tape,
lessee...  fuck! ...i hate this trash, the stuff he got me into, what
totally fake music.  i NEED to get back to where i was: no feeling, no
emotion, no pain.  this music sucks <tape out the window> that felt good...
the bastard.

  four hours to nashville..  okie, it doesn't sound like a song anymore.  i
never should have called.  i never should have said anything.  i should
have just let it be and gone on with my life.  tis would have been a hell
of a lot easier if he'd just been open with me from the start.  i hate him,
why did he do this to me?  it would have been ok if he was just ignorant
and never had a clue.  that would have given me an excuse to laugh it off
and pretend nothing happened and continue my life.  why did he have to ruin
my life?

  three hours to nashville..  enough of the song.  remember those stupid
song paridies he'd write, the things he'd create, his music, his art,
everything was spectacular.  why?  why couldn't i be one of those things
of his.  why didn't he ever pick me?  and what about all the others!? ...
where are they know..  they left him while i was always there to help and
pick up the pieces.  they didn't give a shit about him and he loved them.
what an ass..  what a complete ass! <fist to stearing wheel> ...   i hate
crying..  what a bastard!


  two hours.  almost there.  i'll need to find a place to stay, a job. it'll
be an adventure i guess.  motel for tonight though...  it's...  it's almost
4:00am  well, it's over, it's finally over.  i never have to wonder what he
thinks again.  i never have to beat myself because i didn't ask.  i'll never
have to wonder what could have been.  who fuckin' needs him!  i wish i'd
have realized this 2 years ago.  why did he ignore it?...  what did i do
to deserve this?