ali turned 23 and her parents came. almost everyone came. in the morning i saw adam for the first time in a year and he just says that nothing's changed. we climb up the hill over the city and look down. i sometimes forget what a good listener he can be. we buy cheese listen to good jazz and sit in the shade because the afternoon is hot. i'm nervous at first, i haven't seen anyone in a long long time. longer for going so slow and so heavy and hard and blotted and nauseated. it's nice. devin comes and we just spoon until two at night, when everyone says "we're ready for bed" which means "get off the couch." daniel comes to help mary, she paces in the kitchen on the phone, needs to talk to a few people alone. i rest my head on daniels sharp hip bone and he squeezes it with his elbow. i'm coming to visit you, he says, i haven't mailed that thing to you yet. i drink tea until quarter to three and go home to devins where we swat the bleating smoke alarm with the wooden end of a broom. in the morning we spit in the sink together, brushing fast because travis needs to piss. jessie cooks us breakfast and angel makes the coffee before we drive to santa rosa. alone, i drive through the headlands, taking a long route home. over the golden gate, through the city. i stop to buy bread for mother and dad at tartine, it makes the whole car full with its smell, demanding to be returned and eaten promptly.

devin calls you an asshole to make me feel better, but it doesn't. i still think you are better than you think you are. i still think you're better than you act. i do think you're an asshole, i just don't want to think about it, i feel like it reflects badly on me, more so even than it has anything to do with you. she tells me about mikey, and the bad things that happen when you let slide, and i get that. it's different. i don't know if it will ever come back, i tell her. i can't think about it. i can't do a lot of things, touch myself, etc. i had a sex dream and woke up so sick i vomited twice in the morning. i didn't say no, i said i didn't want to and let it happen anyway, no pride and the vcr that wouldn't work and no guts left to say anything to anyone. we are not, none of us, bad, just missing something. i don't know why i defend him at all, probably because i didn't defend myself, and really, you can't blame the rain for ruining what you leave out in the weather