Disclaimer: Still not mine. However, if it was, it wouldn't be as cool. Thanks Jonathan, and I guess thanks Matt too.

Notes: Because I can't slash anything out on here, I had to take out two things that is in the original (see angstyfender on LJ). Anyway, so far so good on keeping updates, especially since it is a journal. However, it is Roger, so that may mean gaps between entries. We'll just have to wait and see. Thanks to those who've reviewed already. I muchly appreciate it. I love all of you guys. Enjoy!

Roger's Journal (Don't touch Mark)
April 14

It went better than I expected. As expected, Mark was so thrilled I made an attempt to talk to him, he gave me the biggest hug his small arms could muster. It was good, although, I wasn't quite ready for it at that moment. However, as the conversation progressed, I ended up giving him a hug. I'm not quite ready to go back to where we used to be, which is, well... being more than friends. It's still hard just being friends with him again, but I'm actually gonna make an effort to do so. It's only fair. He's been my anchor all this time, I should be the ship he's attached to.

So it went a little like this. I left my room after my last entry, knocked softly on his bedroom door, which I barely heard him whisper 'come in.' Upon entry, I thought I had heard him crying, to which my suspicions were confirmed after opening the door. His eyes were red, puffy, and his glasses sat on his makeshift nightstand. I could tell he was surprised to see me. I'm figuring he probably thought it was Collins, or Maureen, or even Joanne. He wiped his face, and I actually smiled at him. I haven't really looked at him in a while, and watching him wipe his tears reminded me of... well, it's not quite the time to discuss that. I'll get back to that eventually.

I sat down beside him on his bed, and he just smiled back at me. There was silence between us for at least five minutes before he broke the ice. "It's good to see you out of your room." That was the first thing he said to me. I laughed. It wasn't that funny, but for some reason, I laughed. It certainly broke the ice, and we had a pleasant, full conversation, with actually sentences, and phrases.

We talked about Mimi for the most part. I told him how I had been feeling, since I rarely share my feelings, especially with Mark. I told him what she asked of me the day she died, and how I didn't keep that promise. I told him that playing music, especially Musetta's Waltz reminded me too much of her. When we had been living together, I played that often, even if it was off key, and she always said it was her favourite song. She'd interrupt my 'song writing', asking me to play it for her before she headed off for work. That was during the two months we lived together... before she started using again.

Mark just kept nodding his head, and smiling. I felt like I was talking to a wall after a while, and voiced it, when he started crying again. I asked him why he was crying. "It's so good to hear your voice again." That's what he said. That's when I hugged him. I knew he'd been wanting this, and I finally got over myself, and obliged him.

The conversation continued, mostly me just telling him about feelings and stuff. I had mentioned April's birthday being last week, and he told me he had lit a candle for her. He always knew how much April meant to me, so that was really sweet of him to do.

I mentioned that I was writing in this, and Mark smiled the biggest smile I've seen on his face in a long time. I hadn't told him before, though if he ever saw the cover of this, which in big bold letters, says , 'DON'T TOUCH MARK!'; Not like he ever would, but I figured if he saw those words, he'd know, and it would strike that little spark of hope he tends to carry with him whenever it came to me. That I cared enough to use it, cuz he got it for me. "I never expected you to actually write in it, but I had hoped." Those were his words.

The rest of the conversation was us just reminiscing. We talked about the time Collins ran naked through the Parthenon for one of his many anarchist... things. We remembered the time we first met Collins too. Interesting story. We both had just moved to the city, and we were going around apartment hunting. We came across the ad in the classifieds. 'Flow and anarchy don't mix well. Need a roommate, or two. Avenue B, and 11th Street. Top floor of industrial loft.'

It was perfect. Mark had just left Brown, and my band had just started playing gigs at CBGBs, so we met up, and decided to live together, but since everything in NYC is so fucking expensive, we had to find roommates. So we ended up at this loft, the very loft we still live in, and spoke with Collins. Not what we were expecting, I must say. This pot smoking, anarchist, was a walking contradiction. On one hand, he'd do something like, run naked through the Parthenon, but on the other hand, he was a professor at NYU.

Anyway, so we arrived at the loft, and was greeted by this man. He was high off his ass. I remember laughing my ass off, thinking he was some 'Rasta man', with his dread locks, and his mary jane. So, he invited us in, asked a few questions about jobs, and the such, then after we agreed it'd work, we celebrated by getting high. Well, Collins and I did. Mark did however, end up with a nice contact high. He never did figure that out, and to this day, Col and I still haven't told him, and get a good laugh out of it.

After we talked, he offered to make me something to eat. He's always taking care of me, no matter what I do.He's a great friend. Maybe someday, if ever again, we can be more than that, but the outlook isn't good. Dying kinda makes you not wanna get to close to someone, when you know you'll just hurt them in the end, either by pushing them further away, or, well, dying. I don't wanna hurt Mark anymore. I know I've hurt Mark enough, so I think it best to keep what we have, and not push it. If something happens between us again, then I'll try to make it work.

That's pretty much what happened today. We spend the rest of the day just hanging out. We haven't done that in a while either, and it was fun. We played a few hands of cards, to which I kicked his ass in, and... talked. It was good.