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June 5, 2001
I dreamed of Damien last night, a soul I will love forever. Details are elusive. Just his wild red hair. And his hands as he shifted gears. We raced along the Californian coast, his profile the landscape, and his hear the sky, when he suddenly drove the car off a cliff. But instead of falling, we flew, until I woke up, laughing.

My father tells me I'm officially uninsured now and on my own. I blink. Anything can happen, he emphasizes. You are a walking risk. I spoon my ice cream and smile. A walking risk? Let's hope so.