Butterfly

I came back home just now after a few days in Pennsylvania without TV or the Internet. I'm taking my first few steps getting back in the rhythm of knowing about the rest of the world, outside of my dad and my brother. So for now, I'm freezing up on reading your full-length latest facebook message, because all I can really inhale is Michael Phelps and Nastia Liukin. Brett Favre also debuts tomorrow so I might have to wait for that to happen until I can muster up enough energy to get a response for your message. I truly am putting a lot of energy into this. So you know. I have written dozens of entries into my journal already since I started feeling strange-- all of them aimed at figuring out exactly how I felt about you and what I should do about it. So my mind has been as clear as it can be, and pretty open, and very active. So you know that I don't just watch sports and work all day without you crossing my mind. You cross my mind sometimes more than I can take. And there's a way that I want to relate everything about you to Michael Phelps, but I just can't figure out exactly how to. It exists though. Maybe somehow in that you/he's so good at the fly but not as good in the freestyle. I don't even know if that's true anymore though.