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Mary Jane didn't even glance at the morning paper, but tossed it carelessly aside as she reached for the diary. She was determined not to rest until she understood what was going on. She missed the headline blazed across the front page SPIDER-MAN BATTLES THE LIZARD ON THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE just above a sinister-looking picture of the monster slashing through the hero's webs. For the time being, she was wrapped up heart and soul with the handwritten words on the pages of her diary. Her own words. She drilled the fact into her mind a hundred times a day, trying to force herself to believe.

June 2, 2002

Just dug this thing out from under the bed. I guess I chucked it under there after the last time I wrote in it. I almost forgot about it. But it doesn't matter. Not much has happened worth talking about since the last entry.

Ha. The last entry. Now that I couldn't forget. Although I tried. I tried really hard. I might as well write down now what happened.

After Norman Osborne's funeral last year… oh my word, has it really been six months already? I can't believe how fast time flies! And it hasn't been flying in a good way. It's been pretty lonely and miserable. I'll never forget that day as long as I live. It was the day I found true love… and lost it… all at the same time.

I found Peter at his uncle's grave and… I told him how I felt. Told him that I Ioved him. He just stared at me with those beautiful blue eyes and my heart melted. For half a minute, everything fell into place and I was the happiest girl on the face of the earth. I was so sure… so sure… from that look in his eyes… that he loved me too. And then I kissed him for the first time. Kissed him as hard as I could and never wanted to let go. It was unbelievable. It was… perfect. But he pulled away. And the change that suddenly filled his eyes made my heart break. Even before he spoke. He told me that he would always be there for me, that he would always be my friend. But that friendship was all he had to give. And then he walked away and left me standing there, alone.

Alone. I'm still alone.

Of course, I have Mom and Aunt May, and Harry is still a friend, and Peter has been as good as his word… well… halfway. He's always been a good friend. As if nothing ever happened. But he isn't always there. He's so… busy. I barely ever see him. And I miss him. But at the same time, I'm halfway angry at him. It's strange… there is so much about him that's strange. I can feel it. It's like this hidden tension under the surface. Like some kind of power that's being held in, but could just explode at any moment. I know, I know. That sounds nuts. But I mean it. I just can't explain it. He still seems and acts and looks like the same guy he's always been. Shy and smart and a little bit of a nerd. Which is adorable. But there is more to him than meets the eye. I know there is. Much more.

One more thing. When I kissed him… something… something about that kiss was so familiar. As if I had kissed him before. And I know I haven't. But my mind instantly shot back to that rainy night in a dark alley… when I had kissed Spider-Man. And the craziest idea went through my head. But I'm not even going to write it down here. It's just too crazy. Besides, it's passed now, and I can hardly believe I did think it. Peter Parker is about as different from Spider-Man as day is from night.

MJ shut the diary again, this time with a bang. She forced herself not to think as she picked up her phone and dialed her mom's number. She answered almost immediately.

"Hey, Mary Jane, how're you doing, Honey?"

MJ sat silently, gripping the diary until her knuckles turned white.

"Mary Jane? Are you alright?" her mother's voice was suddenly concerned.

"Mom." MJ whispered, her voice unsteady. "Something's not right."

"What is it?"

"Do you… do you remember Peter Parker?"

"Peter Parker? That kid you used to go to school with, right?"

"Yeah." Her heart sank.

"What about him? MJ, are you okay?"

"I… I don't know…" MJ faltered. "Mom, listen. I'm not sure if I hit my head or anything in the accident. Do you remember me ever saying anything about… being in love… with Peter?"

"You? In love with Peter Parker? If you were, you never said a thing about it. Why?"

"It's just this old diary," MJ murmured. "There's…" she paused, not knowing how to explain. She was panicking, suddenly wanting desperately to keep the diary a secret. "There's just some things in it that I'd forgotten, that's all. I'm okay, Mom. I'll talk to you later."

Without giving her mom time to answer, MJ hung up. She stood still, staring at the phone for a moment. Then with a cry of frustration, she slammed it down on the table, so hard that the table wobbled and nearly fell. She was determined to find the truth of… whatever this was.

June 27, 2002

Things are not going well. Haven't been since, well, you know. It's on nights like these that I feel it the most. It's pitch black and the rain is pouring down. Like tears streaming against the windows. I just got back from my pathetic miserable job and here I sit alone in my pathetic miserable apartment. Always alone.

It's at times like this that I miss Peter the most. Miss what we could have had that never was and never will be. It's been months, I know, but the pain hasn't lessened. I sit here alone and I can still feel the pressure of his lips against mine, the comfort of his arms around me… as if it had all happened just moments ago. I can see that look that I thought was love flickering in his eyes. It's as if that same shock is still going through every vein in my body… the thrill I felt when I kissed him. The final assurance I needed to know that he was… is… the only one for me.

I want to just lay my head on this desk and howl. Just let loose all the tears that have built up inside of me. But no matter how much I cry, it won't make him care. Not in the way that I want… that I need him to.

Because I may as well just face it. I… I need him.

July 2, 2002

Today I was out in Times Square when I heard a familiar whoop overhead and people started yelling and pointing at the sky. I looked up too and saw, just for a moment, a red and blue blur flying through the skyscrapers. He was gone in a moment.

It's been months since last I saw him and suddenly, I miss him too. He and Peter are the two most important men in my life. Think of that. One, my best friend whom I love more than life but who doesn't return my feelings, and the other, a costumed superhero whose face I've never seen. My life is strange.

When I think back to the few brief meetings I had with Spider-Man… the times he saved my life… and that amazing kiss in the rain… I miss the comfort and safety that his presence always gave. I wish I could really know him in real life… know the man behind the mask. It frustrates me at times to realize that I could run into him at any time… and never know it's him, if he really lives among us as a normal person. I have no way of finding him.

It's almost eerie. There has been more than one time in the past several months that I've heard that wild yell of his and turned to see… nothing. Or felt something swishing past overhead… but he was gone before I even had time to look up. It's as if he's haunting my life with a shadow… so elusive and so out of reach, and yet, he's always there.

I've almost wondered sometimes… when I wake up in the middle of the night… and I see a dark shadow out the window… motionless on the ledge of the building across from my apartment. It's as if… as if he's watching over me.

July 15, 2002

I'm not writing hardly at all, am I? Only four entries in the last year. This thing is such a good place to pour out misery and frustration, I ought to do it more often. But nothing of note happens, usually, and I don't want to write out pages of depression.

But today was different. Today I met up with Harry for lunch… just for a friendly session of do-you-remembering and all that fun stuff. We reconciled our broken relationship months ago and he's been a wonderful friend ever since. He knows and I know that we were all wrong for each other, that it would never have worked, in any relationship above a friendship. But in a friendship, we match up perfectly.

What Harry told me today shocked me. We got to talking about Peter… or rather I brought him up. I don't know why… just did. Guess I needed to say his name aloud to someone other than the pictures on my wall. Harry told me that Peter had always been hesitant to start a relationship with me, although he had wanted to, all through highschool. Because of Peter. He said that Peter… Peter has been in love with me since he was six years old.

I can scarcely believe it. Peter pretty much told me that he didn't love me. But Harry insists that it's true.

"C'mon, MJ," he sighed and rolled his eyes. "I've put up with years of listening to him fawn and swoon over you. He's always loved you. And he loves you still. Just give him some time."

Maybe… just maybe… I can try again. The man of my dreams is worth waiting for.

July 16, 2002

Two entries in a row! That's the first in a long while. Something happened last night that I couldn't resist writing about. I went to stand on the balcony last night… which I do often… and I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Something red and blue.

Spider-Man, sitting on a ledge across from my balcony, pressed against the wall and as motionless as if he was a piece of it. I called out to him and he didn't even answer at first, but he finally swung over and perched on the ledge of the balcony. I forgot how impressive he looks up close. He's built slight and short, but what there is of him is solid iron muscle and it's magnificent… aaaand there I go all fangirly again. Ahem. Anyway. We talked for a few minutes. He told me he was just checking up on me, making sure I was okay… it's sweet. And flattering. I really do have a superhero stalker, don't I? He swung off before I could ask him all the many things I wanted to. As I stood there on the balcony, I remembered the times I've glanced out my window and seen his dark shape up against the wall of the building opposite mine. I had been seeing him out of the corner of my eye for so long and half-dismissed it as a dream, but now I know it's real and that he really was there. He's been sitting out on that ledge there every single night. Maybe only for a few minutes. But he has. Every night… for months.

Peter promised he'd always be there for me. And he isn't. But… in spite of my broken heart, it is almost a world of comfort to know that Spider-Man is close. Always somewhere, just around the corner. And I know, even though I can't see him often, that if ever I really need him, he'll be there.

September 5, 2002

I finally worked up the courage to call Peter today. And he actually answered the phone. I really haven't been sure what to do. In spite of Harry's assurance, I keep remembering the way Peter walked away from me that horrible day in the cemetery. I hear his words, echoing and re-echoing through my mind… "That's all I have to give."

Friends. Just friends. Well, at least I can have that much. Because I need him in my life. So I'll take what he will give. And maybe… someday… there'll be more. I'm willing to wait. And I'm not entirely without hope… that look that passed over his face when I told him I loved him, the light that I saw flickering in his eyes… all that, and the way that he kissed me… makes me almost sure that there's something more. Something he's afraid to tell me.

It's been too many months since we did anything together. Sure, we spent Christmas together at Aunt May's, but it was awkward and strange. And poor Harry was in a sort of depressed rage. And we spent Easter together, again at Aunt May's, and Harry was doing better, but it was still awkward and strange. We've met up a few times on the street and I've called him up a couple of times, just to talk, and on more than one occasion, I've run into him at Aunt May's just for a visit. That's it. That's all the interaction we've had since… last November. So I just asked if he wanted to meet up for lunch or supper or something… just to catch up. He said he'd love to… and then he broke off. He must've been outside because I could hear sirens in the background, really loud, and then screaming. He said he'd call me back and then hung up before I could even say goodbye.

I'm still waiting for him to return my call.

September 6, 2002

Peter called me back this morning, apologizing for just hanging up on me like that yesterday. He said he'd love to meet up, and so we did. And I just got back. I met him at Schnipper's… best burgers in Manhattan, you know. He was at least forty-five minutes late. I don't know what's wrong with him. He's late to everything. Or else he doesn't even show up at all. It's the most frustrating thing. I ate my way through an entire order of large fries and then doodled over at least a dozen napkins before he showed up.

But something about those beautiful eyes of his always make me forget that I'm mad at him. His eyes are always a different shade of blue… the color of the sky or the sea, sometimes indigo, sometimes navy, sometimes just a pale sapphire. It's amazing. I could drown myself in those eyes. I was so, so glad to see him that I'm afraid I went a little too far and he got his guard up. I had to back down to small talk and… well… that was enough. We talked for hours and it was sooo good just to be with him and be friends again. If you can ignore all that underlying tension, that is.

When we finally had to leave, or risk being thrown out of the restaurant as they were closing, we agreed to meet up again sometime. Maybe go out for a movie. He said he'll call me. We stood on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant just a moment, while I waited for a taxi. I was looking out at the street, and suddenly I could feel those eyes on me, almost piercing straight through me, his gaze was so intense. I turned back and met it and my heart seemed to be racing like a freight train. I don't think I was even breathing. He reached out and brushed my hair back from my face… the wind had blown it out of my ponytail… and I felt my knees practically turn to jelly, just at his touch. It was like he had sent an electric shock through my entire body. Another moment and I'm afraid I'd have just thrown myself into his arms and begged him to love me… but then the taxi pulled up and shattered the moment.

Maybe it isn't such a good idea, spending time with Peter. It tears old wounds open and leaves them bleeding again. But… it's such a bittersweet pain. So sweet and precious while it's hurting me, all at the same time.

November 2, 2002

It took a month for Peter to call me. And he acted as if it had only been a couple of days. Said there was a movie showing that he wanted to see and asked if I wanted to come along. Just like that. And I jumped at the chance.

He didn't show up.

November 3, 2002

Peter called today and apologized for not coming… said that something came up. I've just about had it. It's always "Something came up." "There was a disturbance." "I lost track of time." Seriously. He's got the biggest stash of lame excuses I've ever even heard of. Sometimes I wonder what on earth is wrong with him. He was the smartest student in school… smarter even than some of the teachers. Now he can barely keep up in college. He should be blowing those professors away with a perfect GPA. He lives in a nasty little apartment on the poor side of town when I, a practically impoverished waitress, am still doing better than that. Not to mention, he eats like a horse, which is weird. I, with my own eyes, have seen him eat an entire large pizza, by himself. And he drank practically a gallon of Coke. Isn't there something about depression eating? I don't know how he can even support that kind of an appetite, seeing as he can't hold down a job for anything, and he seems to forget that he has any friends. Because he's never there for them.

There. I've had my little outburst and now I'm not mad anymore. Just sad. Terribly sad. He's making my life miserable. And I still love him so much… it hurts so bad.

November 19, 2002

I saw Spider-Man again yesterday. He was sitting there, outside my balcony again. I know he's there almost every night, but he always seems half-frightened of me so I'm afraid to go out and scare him off. It's flattering to think that he cares enough about me to watch over me like that. More than flattering. It's… amazing. Yesterday I was out on my balcony when he swung up to the building across from me. For a moment he sat there and we just stared at each other. At least, I think he was staring at me. It's impossible to see through the eyepieces on his mask. I must've imagined a thousand times what color those hidden eyes must be… and I always see blue. A beautiful, deep blue, always changing, always a different shade. Funny how I'm so dead-sure that he has blue eyes. I waved at him and he came over. Every time I see him it makes my breath catch in my throat and my heart skip a beat.

It was almost funny… such a strange, almost unworldly encounter… a mystery man in red and blue spandex perched on a two-inch wide railing twenty stories above the ground… and all he said was "Hi." Just as casually as if we had passed on the sidewalk. I had been crying moments earlier and I tried to hide it… but he must've noticed, because he asked me if I was okay and he sounded concerned. I thought of just giving the usual, "Sure, I'm okay." But something in me just snapped. All that bottled-up emotion that I'd been hiding from the world just sort of came pouring out and I couldn't stop it. I started sobbing, uncontrollably… and it was kind of embarrassing. And the next thing I knew, he had slipped off the railing and was holding me close. I just buried my face in his chest and sobbed harder. It was such a relief to just let it all go. And suddenly, I didn't care anymore. I could just feel that he understood.

I told him that I had loved somebody and he had turned me down. He didn't say anything at first, but for a moment, he was holding me so tight that he seemed almost desperate. As if… as if he needed me. I've never felt anything like that before. But then he let go and said that whoever I loved must've been a fool to turn me down. I wanted him to stay… just stand there on the balcony with me all night… but he said he had to go. He waited a moment… and then brushed the hair back from my face… just the same way Peter had the last time I was with him. And it made me catch my breath in just the same way. I wanted him to kiss me, but he didn't. And so I reached up and kissed his cheek, right on top of his mask… and then he was gone.

It's amazing the way he… a stranger… is always there for me, just when I need him most. Always saving me, in one way or another. He's the strongest presence, the only constant in my life. It's strange, the way I feel about him. I should feel disloyalty toward Peter, I guess, being in love with two different men. But I don't. It feels… almost… right. I guess loving two people, not being able to be with either of them, doesn't really count.