It's been two weeks since the day I let Joey go. Your probably thinking 'Oh, the poor little rich kid, he lost his girlfriend' and your probably right. I know, I'm whining an awful lot, but I have a reason.

You can't honestly tell me that if you lost the one most important thing you had to live for that you would go out and party anytime soon. Now you ask, how can I, at only 20, know that I want to spend the rest of my life with this girl. I can't, to be honest, be sure that she is my one and only, but I am confident in the fact that she makes me feel like nothing else. No one knows for sure that the one they choose to spend their life with is the one they were intended to be with. But when you find the one soul that is harmonious with yours, you spend eternity with that person. I think Joey is that one soul that, when put with its match, will coexist forever.

When Joey is around, and this is corny as hell, I feel complete. Its as if I'm not quite whole without her. And right now, I'm unquestionably divided without her. Now that I've thoroughly explained my emotions, to the point you thought only Jerry Meguire could do, I've got to take a shower. In the past two weeks, I've shaved once, and that was three days ago. I have facial hair that's really beginning to show, I've been wearing the same green polo for two days, and my hair, what there is of it, is a mess. I feel grungy and dirty and lively all at the same time; now I know how Rob feels.

Speaking of Rob, he's cleaning up his act, and I'm only slowing him down. He's beginning to sound like me; telling me to take a shower, clean up my side of the room and wash my laundry. Being the self-described neat freak that I am, you'd imagine I'd be avoiding this life style as much as possible, but I'm kind of enjoying having no responsibility when it comes to hygiene and cleanliness.

Considering the state of mind I'm in, this is the perfect life for me.

It's Saturday night, and I'm supposed to be going to a concert with Max, Joel, Evan, Jamal and Viktor. I'd cancel, but Viktor, my best friend since we were 2, is coming all the way from Newport on a goddamned ferry, so I can't. He goes to Salve Regina - he's a European Studies major. Max and Evan are my old lacrosse teammates. Joel and Jamal went to high school and played baseball with me, and they both go to the University of Rhode Island.

I think it's a Metallica concert, but then again Joel said something about Live, and Max was talking about Tool. I'm hoping for none of the above. Some Springsteen would be good, but only if Joey were there.

Hell, I'd go to a Backstreet Boys concert if Joey was with me. Now that I think of it, Viktor told me a month ago when he got the tickets that it was Pearl Jam. I'm okay with Pearl Jam.

Now I've got to choose whether or not to shave and what to wear. I could be the all-American college boy and put a razor to my chin, a polo on my back and some khakis on my lower half. But I could also stray and not shave, pull on a Mumia t-shirt and some cargos and be the grunge king that I'm trying to perfect. I think I'll go for grunge and surprise the guys.

The Mumia t-shirt is black and about two years old, but I'll live with it. The cargos are green and the oldest ones I've got and their a little frayed on the cuffs. Now the shoes. Viktor will think I've been abducted when he sees me in these old, crappy addidas sambas. If Joey were here, she'd shave my face and pick out my clothes before going out with me like this. I have to keep myself from looking in the mirror just so I won't loose my guts.

There's Viktor at the door. Yep, that same blond haired blue eyed Russian I've known for eighteen years is standing in my doorway. "Damn Reiker, you look like shit."

"Nice to see you too, Skuratov."

"Sorry, but you really do. I think we may need to force you to crawl back to Joey."

"No coercing need apply. I'd go on my own free will, if I thought she'd take me back."

"I have in on good authority that if you tried, she might just accept your sorry ass. Your making me sick Erik! Go shave or something, please."

"We're going to a Pearl Jam concert, right? I think at least one of us needs to look the part, and I can't count on any of you guys."

Right then, Joel and Jamal come up behind Viktor.

"Count on us for what?" Joel asks. He's tall, red hair and brown eyes, in, what else, khakis and a J.Crew t-shirt.

"Nothing Miller, nothing at all," I answer laughing to myself.

"I think he may be referring to our choice of dress," Jamal replies.

He's African American, but only slightly if you go by appearance. He's dressed in khakis and a polo.

"Yes, for once, Payne is correct. I was alluding to the fact that we are about to attend a Pearl Jam concert and you three are every inch the princes of prep. And I can assume Evan and Max are dressed pretty much the same way, because they always are."

"So Reiker, have you talked to your leading lady yet?" Evan yelled down the hall from the elevator.

When he reached the door, I made it a point to get in his face.

"Parker, shut up! she does live on the same floor as me, you know, and you don't need to advertise anything."

"Relax Erik, I told him to make an ass of himself," Max said coming up behind Evan.

"You only succeeded in making an ass of both of you, Arden," Viktor told him.

"Break it up all," Jamal said and started down the hall. "I'm going to a concert. are any of you sorry-ass losers coming with me?"

And right now, despite all the usual criticism, I feel better. Genuinely better. I don't think anything could pull me down.

I'm feeling slightly better right now. It's not a person or anything, it's just the idea of this night. I think you need to know what I'm talking about. Well, I knew Jen was up to something, but I didn't know it would be anything like this. And she even enlisted Jack for her scheme.

But I'm glad she did this, because no matter what Greg is really like, I know my friends cared enough to try to pull me out of my slump.

Now what they did is another story altogether. They put and ad in the date-line things to find me a date. And they did, pretty fast I might add. They called me last night and told me about their plot, and much to their feigned surprise, I accepted. They knew I'd have pitty on the pour soul, so the caught me there, but still, it's the thought that counts.

So now I'm in this car, an '02 BMW with Greg Hall, a senior at Brown who's best friend planted an ad for him, and also answered my ad.

We're going out to dinner, and then possibly a movie. He's not a bad guy; blond hair, blue eyes, tall, muscular, handsome, well-dressed. He's just not Erik.

But I promised myself, and Jack and Jen, that I'd at least enjoy myself, no matter who the company was.

The road is a bit slick, so Greg is trying to go slow, but it's not easy driving. There's a car up ahead, stopped. I don't think Greg can stop soon enough.

We're sliding, and, oh god, we're going to hit it. My god, we've hit the car in front of us, at the force of forty miles-per-hour.

My head really hurts - oh God that kills. And my arm...oh shit...my arm is numb. I look out the window and realize we've not only hit the car, but a tree as well. My door is indented and my arm is tightly held against my chest. And my head is slammed into the broken window. I think I'm loosing conciousness because I can hear Greg, but his voice is unintelligible, and fading. My head really hurts right now.

If I'm dying, Erik needs to know that I love him, and that I'm sorry we broke up, and that I wish we could be together for ever. I love Erik, and he needs to know. And my father, he needs to know that I love him, no matter what, and I'm sorry for ever making him doubt that. And Bessie, she needs to know that she's the best sister/mother anyone could ever have. And Jack, he needs to know I love him.

And Jen, and Andie, and Dawson. I love them all. They need to know. But most of all Erik, he needs to know that I will love him forever. And If I'm still alive, I intend to let him know that.

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