September 8th, 1975

Dear Oliver,

Today I hopped over a grenade only to land on a landmine. And surprise, surprise, guess who the landmine was? Elvira. I’m going to her birthday party this weekend.

Alright, so we were at a lecture and the professor had to leave early. She was waiting for her ride, so I stuck around to keep her company. Small talk and all that shit. It’s awkward and I suck at it, but I also suck at not talking because I can’t stand silence. She was wearing this fat necklace with a bunch of fake gems and a gold leopard hanging off it. It looked kind of weird on her. Too in-style, I guess.

Apparently the necklace was an early birthday gift. Turns out her birthday is on the 12th. Me, Mister Can’t-keep-my-mouth-shut, blurted out that mine is on the 14th. Great way to keep a conversation going, shit way to stop it from getting too personal. I don’t know, she’s just too easy to talk to. She doesn’t talk much, but it’s like she makes every word count. Anyway, her friends are throwing her a party. She sounded nervous. I can’t fathom why. She’s gorgeous and sweet and smart, what could she have to worry about at a little party? But who knows? She’s probably got her own struggles that I can’t even imagine. God knows.

Anyway, she started talking about plans. They were thinking of going to a drive-in in Hamilton. Apparently, it’s one of her friend’s favorite hangouts and it’s closing in October. It may be the last time they get to go, but with how far away it is, they may have to settle with a movie night at home instead. Elvira doesn’t even have a car. She asked me what my plans were for my birthday, and, I mean, am I supposed to have plans? My birthday has always just been a day. Sometimes my mom would get me a gift and she usually let me pick dinner, but parties weren’t really our thing. I’m not mad about that. I don’t think I’m a party-person, but I’ve never been to a party, so maybe I just don’t know what to expect?

Fuck, just why did she have to ask me that? It was nice of her to ask about me but, why? Because then I was put into a position where I could either admit I don’t have any plans or I’d have to lie. But what if, when I lie, she keeps asking? Like, what if she asks, “who are you celebrating with?” I don’t have anybody to celebrate with! So what do I do? Make up some distant best friend from America? I guess I could have told her I was throwing a party with my buddies, Felix, Dawson, Marcus, Oliver… Oh, no, not Human Oliver, I mean my old friend Journal Oliver! He lives in a book and listens to all my problems! And then she’d give me that squinty-eyed look, you know the one that says, “Oh, I didn’t know you were a crazy person. Fuck, I gotta get away from you…!” And then I’d never have to talk to her again, and then I’d be awkward and alone, which I think is better than being awkward and creepy.

Am I the only person in the world that likes feeling like shit? Or, at least, I’m comfortable with it? How do people just walk around, feeling content about anything? Taking shit in stride, no worries, no fear? I don’t even know if I want that. It’s not like shitty things will stop happening to me, it’s just I’ll be less prepared for when they do. Why is happiness so fucking terrifying to me?

Anyway, I didn’t lie to her. Because lies scare me. God, she looked like a kitten in a rainstorm. Big sad eyes staring into my fucking soul. Just, come on, don’t patronize me! I know this probably looks super sad to you, but pity isn’t gonna make me feel any better. Her ride shows up. I’m asking god why couldn’t they have shown up half a minute earlier, but before she leaves she asks me if I want to come to her birthday party. For some reason, I said yes. And now, I’m fucked.

I’m so fucked. I have to go, because I said I’d go. If I backtrack now, I might hurt her feelings and I already said I’d drive her so it would be really shitty to back out now. I’m fucked. I’m going. Fuck, I have to get her a gift! What do I get her? She likes flowers, do I get her more flowers? But I already got her flowers, is it okay to get a girl flowers more than once or does that mean something I don't want it to mean? I don’t want to ruin her birthday. I don’t.

I’ve never had a good birthday. And I don’t really care if I have a good birthday, but I don’t want to take that away from somebody else.

I need to sleep. I haven’t been sleeping too well. It’s like that tenderness you get right before you get a headache has been in my head for days. I almost wish I’d just get the headache already. I'll write more tomorrow. Goodnight, Oliver. Thanks for listening.