July 3, 1998

Two days ago, I was talking on the phone with Nathan, and he asked me to call him back at 6pm. But I didn't because, well, it sounds kind of silly, but I didn't want to look desperate.

So he called me at 6:24pm and said, "I don't think you care about me." I said, "Of course I care about you!" And he said, "You never call my house." "Sure, I do." Then we started talking about something else.

After a while, he said, "Can you call me back at 9:30?" At least it sounded like he said 9:30. But he called back at 9:26 and said, "You really don't care." I said, "Yes, I do! It's not even 9:30 yet! He said, "I said 9:00." "No, you didn't." "Yes, I did. I said 9:00." [Nathan was about ten years ahead of the game when it came to setting up manipulative traps.]

I said, "Nathan, do you think I don't like you?" "Kinda. I always tell you how much I like you, and you never tell me how much you like me." I said, "Oh, Nathan, but I do!" He still didn't seem convinced. He really thinks I don't like him. [Or he just really likes drama.]

We got off the phone, but I called him back about fifteen minutes later, to prove to him that I do like him. Daniel wanted to talk to me and he asked, "Emily, do you like it up the pooper?" Meaning, I guess, do I like anal sex? I just laughed.

Daniel said to Nathan, "She said she does!" Nathan said in the background, "Well, I can adjust." [Adjusting from not French kissing to not having anal sex is easier than it sounds.] I said, "Tell Nathan to stop making fun of me." I heard Nathan say in the background, "I'm not making fun of her."

I said, "Daniel, ask Nathan why he's always so mean to me!" Daniel did. Nathan said, "I'm not. I love her." Daniel said, "Nathan says he loves you." I knew because I heard him. He is so incredibly sweet.