It's almost 7:00... it's been what, easily two hours since it happened? And I am still angry.

I want him to write. I want him to write to please me, write to appease me.

I don't WANT to be angry. I hate being angry.

And right now I'm furious.

Dammit... and here I had been bragging about him. About how proud I was. That I was proud to own him, that he was doing so well, that he made, at most, little mistakes.

That he was intelligent. Clever.

That he cared.

That he MATTERED.

Dammit.

I really am not calm right now.