Blades

I'm sitting here at my desk, my television is on, my music is blasting, I have a book nearby.
All I can seem to concentrate on is the box cutter next to my phone.
If this were two years ago, I'd call Alan.
If this were two months ago, I'd call Dustin or Jonathen.
As it stands, it's not, and there's no one to call.
I'm alone.
I suppose, technically, I could call Jonathen if I weren't such a coward.
I don't want to risk Casey answering his phone and making his life worse.
Besides, what right do I have to ask for his help?

God, Jonathen, I miss you.

I need you.