To Jason

Jason,

Ironic, isn’t it, that this is entry number 182, and 182 is a multiple of 13?

Okay.  My head has been swirling with things I want to say to you since last night when I was driving home.  I thought about what you said, your certainty over us being best friends in the future, and exactly how much of a help you were to me yesterday.  I can’t thank you enough for that.

The night before last, on that IM, when you were describing what you meant, yet you were being so hesitant about it . . . it never occured to me that it was because you didn’t want to hurt me with what you were going to say.  I suppose even now, I’m prone to questioning how much I can possibly mean to a person.  But I think I’m learning, and you’re the one helping me to do so.

I am sorry that I ask so many questions of you.  I think I’ve completely figured out why now.  I’ve been a curious person my entire life.  As I know I’ve said, I never want to lose someone again because of what I don’t know about them.  Not to mention, once I found out you would answer me, I guess I’ve gone kind of overboard.  But there’s also another factor that I just figured out today.  People leave imprints with the ones they encounter in life.  Maybe I never learned their names, but some people in Dots who tell me stories about things stick in my head.  They made an imprint on me.  And friends do that, but to such a deeper degree.

I know that Melanie, at least at one point, wanted to go and paint under the Eiffel Tower.  I know that Jill wants to own about a million animals, most of them bunnies.  I know that Mike wants to live near the mountains.  I know a whole bunch of things about the people I’ve met, the people I call friends.  And I think that’s important.  I’ve heard a whole bunch of stories throughout my life about my dad’s life when he was younger.  I’ve forgotten most of them now, and you know what?  I wish I could remember them.  I wish I’d written them down, because who knows if I’ll ever hear them again?  I ask questions of poeple because I want a little piece of who they are.  Because that way, I’ll have stories to pass on to others.  I know, my life has enough stories, but it’s the people involved in them that make them worthwhile.  Because, with stories from these people, I can not only relate my tales to someone else, but they can know a little more on who the other person is by what I remember about them.  Not to mention that things have happened to all these people, not just you, before I came along.  What stories do they have?  What are some favorite memories from childhood?  Favorite holiday?  Holiday that’s hated?  Things like that.

Okay, I’m gonna conclude this entry before I go completely off subject.  My point in this whole thing, Jason, is . . . thank you.  Thank you so much for being there for me yesterday.  You have no idea how much it helped, and calmed me down, and how much I appreciate it.  I will tone down my questions, I promise, because while it’s still a definite thing in my mind that I don’t want to lose someone because of what I didn’t know, I certainly don’t want to go to the complete polar end, and lose someone because I asked too much.

You’re my best friend, and I couldn’t have asked for a better one.

Love, Kate.

–Notes–

Um, I’m a little worried, Kate…what did he mean by “over being best friends?” Sorry, I know I can be a bit too inquisitive too sometimes… [Jilliebean]
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Nevermind. I reread the sentence and now it makes sense. My bad. I’ve had a headache for the better part of the day and I don’t think I’m seeing straight. [Jilliebean]

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