Everything was going so well, too... So well...

I hate this. I've always hated it, but I... I loathe it, I despise it now. 1017. 1017 is a small number, considering how many numbers are out there. It only takes a maximum of 10 minutes to count to. It's not a big number... unless we're speaking the distance between here and Louisiana. Then it's huge. It's 17 hours of driving. It's 17 hours of pavement that seperates me from Dustin.

And now, more than ever, I wish that 17 hours of pavement up and disappeared. I wish I lived closer to him. I wish, I wish, I wish...

Dammit, and I got the news from Shun. I'm torn... I wish he didn't tell me, but at the same time I'm so glad he did, and then again, WHY did it have to be SHUN who told me? Why couldn't it have been one of Dustin's brothers, just like it should have been?

I'm waiting. Even though I'm shaking and sick with worry, I'm still waiting for a phone call from someone in his family telling me exactly what happened and offering whatever reassurance they can.

If they don't call, I'll just be sick with worry and pissed, too.

Nervous, no less...

If they don't call me for this, then what would they ever call me for? WHY does she hate me so much!? I DESERVE to know that my Dustin, my everything, is out cold in a hospital - I deserve to know that.

I'm scared, and I'm worried, and I'm angry, and I'm even more scared...

Why, Lil, why aren't you on right now? Why isn't Miles home? Why is Shun too busy to talk? I need to talk to someone, and this diary isn't cutting it. Why does it have to happen now, while I'm grounded and unable to go out for friends' reassurance?

I need a hug.

... And maybe some ice cream.