17th August 2011

Dear N.,

I'm currently writing on a napkin I stole from the restaurant mommy dragged us in this evening. I'm sorry for the owner, but I needed to write to you and having left our notebook at home proved to be the worst choice.

On 4th August, Alfred left. He's somewhere in the US right now, visiting the family he left there. I told you he came here only to study, didn't I? Anyway. The night before he left we heard from each other and after some stupid small-talk, he eventually spat out a "I'm missing you.". I got statuary. No word could leave my mouth -he almost believed I dropped the phone, as I just left him hanging while I was savouring those precious words no-one on Earth had ever told me. And so we parted.

I was happy at first, since everything went well between me and Alice and I got used to the idea that Alfie and I couldn't text from each other because of the incredibly high price of messages from here to there. Then, I started growing disappointed, since he could at least send me an email or text me once every 4 days, if he really missed me this much.

I admit it - changing from three-hundred texts a day to none is a punch in the stomach.

The result? Well, since I was not hearing from him, I spent the following two days being hyper-nervous, homesick and incredibly anxious. I could not eat, I stayed up at night, I refused wine and even tea TEA, can you believe it? I even had a quarrel with mommy about the quality of the solar lotion, got angry at Alice for spilling water in my soup before at the restaurant and shouted at daddy for getting stuck in a traffic jam yesterday morning. I was irritable to no end.

I my head, an old video-tape recorder kept playing those wonderful kisses right before my eyes -and it is still doing it! Why doesn't he reply to my texts? Has he found another one? Is this love, this cat scratching the insides of my lungs? And what is this anxiety, what is this inappetite, what is this anger?

I want Alfred. I need him. I even dreamt of him kissing another one! Hell, I hate the fact that in 3 days, the only stupid thing that I've been doing is crying for a man instead of growing some balls and get out of here! Oh, Alice is right. She's terribly right: I should get out of here as soon as possible. I need fresh air, not a plump beating mass of meat. I need music, I need to have fun. I need a party. There will be the 'Summer Party' in 2 days - Alice and I are going. It's not like I really really really wanna go, but Alice would drag me out of bed if I do not.

"Who knows, you might meet someone interesting.."

No, I won't, Alice. Because if someone approached a guy with no terribly fit body, no good shirt to wear at a party and no sign of happiness on his face, but blueish eyeholes under his crimson eyes, skinny legs and growling stomach, I would be scared, not happy. 90% that guy is sick. The one hitting on me, I mean.

Wait, does that mean Alfie is sick?

-End Day 4

Guys, I'm writing this stuff for fun, just because I thought it was good material for a plot and I need to exercise my English. The fact that it resembles a diary is just because it's a mix of true stories and that this style is the best to convey sincere emotions.

Take care, pipolz!