"No," she grumbled, "I'm not okay. I mean. It's not your fault, just... I leave this place, feel like shit for months when I get back home, and come back to find out you're not the same guy, even though you are, it kinda sucks. I know you didn't have anything to do with it, if you did, you wouldn't be you but the other you, because you wouldn't do that to me if you could help it." It at least made sense to her, in her own flustered way. She sighed and fingercombed her hair back, looking over at him. "And I wasn't even here ten minutes before Charlene comes up to me and tries to be all nice and crap, like she's making up for not paying attention to us or something. May I see your notepad for a second?" She picked up a spare pencil from the nightstand and started writing down letters at the top of the pad, up near the spiral binding. "Now you don't have to hurt yourself thinking about what rhymes with what, you can just look at the letters and go Built, Dilt, Cilt." She sighed and slipped away, burrowing under the covers again.
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