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2004-02-17 + 6:45 p.m. Sometimes the unfairness of it all cuts me like a knife...I find myself Shylock yelling at Portia for justice, not mercy. I wish I could just call you right now, because I know you'd be the sympathetic shoulder to cry on - just as you always are. Just the thought of you, my dear, dear friend, calms me and soothes me. I would be lost without you. Actually, I wouldn't. I know why I'm alone and they're not. Because they need someone, and right now, I don't. I'm strong like that now, thanks to you. Come What May |