This is where I try to intervene and fix things up, even though we both know I'm never going to be able to fix this mess I've buried myself in. I can't really tell you how many nights I laid awake staring at the ceiling, hoping I'd figure out some way to make you want to be around me. I know I'm not like them; not like the rest of those girls you hang around. So what if I don't talk a mile a minute like Ashley? So what if I try not to be cruel to everyone else like Jessica? It doesn't matter, you won't listen. You never would.

I think it was last night that made me realize that you do have substance. You don't show it, not with the way you sing in the hallways at the top of your lungs and manage to pull off wearing a boarding toque every single day of the year. You've got meat in you and I think I may just be the only one who knows that...but you sure do pull a good job of hiding it. I don't understand why you'd want to hide yourself...maybe to fit in with the brainless people you associate with, but why ever it is I'd really like to know why you picked me to be slightly honest with. I'm not honest with anyone anymore, not these days. But no, you just kept right on asking me if I thought you'd actually sink low enough to be cruel to me. You had to ask why I'd think you'd do that. That's what made me think you might be more than some really weird popular jock that I couldn't have.

There's way too many things I could say to you but you wouldn't hear. That's how you act, you know that? Like you only hear what you want to. I think Frozen would be a good song for you. Except you do open up to me...but only if something's wrong with me and I'm about to start bawling. And even then it's not enough to understand you. I've only seen your kindness, truly, once. And I was hoping I'd get to see more. But apparently I only get the trial offer, and I didn't take it. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being everything to everyone and trying to please the mass. I want to be myself. And I can't even be myself near you anymore.

I've had enough of trying to show you I have a heart. Everyone seems to KNOW I'm thick-skinned. Everyone seems to KNOW that I'm only good for a few laughs and money. Stamp "welcome" on my forehead. It'd suit me. I'm tired of trying to be your friend when all I want is a kiss on the cheek, a warm hug, and a promise of a better tomorrow. There isn't a tomorrow, don't you see? Tomorrow isn't new. I live the same cycle every day, walking with you and trying to make small talk. Once in a while you change the cycle by letting some kindness shine through or telling me something funny, but it's just a game. It's pointless and empty and I'm tired of it. I told you once and I won't ever say it again, forbid it ever become apparent. I don't know you, or who you are. I thought I did, but I don't. And you don't know me. You think you know what's under the sparkles, bleach, platforms and perfume, but you have no idea. And it's too late to meet you. Maybe I'll see you someday, playing for the NHL, and I can say to my kids, "I knew him...too long ago and I wish I still did." Good luck with your art, beautiful stuff that it is, and good luck with your love. Goodbye, Adam. Not goodnight this time.

Goodbye.