(diaryland) December 06, 2012 - 1:54 p.m.

Hi. How's it going?

I had a dream about you. I saw you in a big, concrete, rusty, Detroit-scale abandoned warehouse. You seemed happy.

The next night I had a much more vivid dream that I had to hold down a trespassing naked guy on my front doorstep until the police came, but that's a whole other story.

Anyway, it was good to see you the night before that, in my mind's eye.

I noticed that your phone number spontaneously generated on my new phone. I wonder why it did that, because my older phones, like three of them, had no idea who you were.

I don't wonder how you are, because I know you're fine.

I kind of replaced you with someone else, a person who is basically the same, and has the same name. It makes me kind of a tool, but it just happened. I couldn't contact you to say hi or anything, because I'm spineless. Why can't I say hi, like normal people? Normal people just say hi to their buddies if they want to say hi. I don't know why I can't just say hi.

But, hi.

I'm glad I had the dream.

But I'm really such a tool.