6 January 2005 (yesterday) (tomorrow)

Bob is a degenerate, an old friend and my roommate.

I remember the story Bob told me about a girl years ago. They were hanging out on the jungle gym in some playground at night the way teenagers do, and she leaned in playfully, her body swaying as her arms held tightly onto the bars, asking Bob to do something he didn't know he was supposed to do.

Bob regrets not grabbing and kissing her to this day.