I read your letter,

the one you left when you broke into my house.
Within the last three to four months, I've figured something out about myself. I like being honest with people, but I'm usually only really good at being honest when I'm openly asked about something. I don't really like to just come out and say something. I used to always find myself with "awkward silences," which I now know aren't so much awkward silences as thoughtful pauses. I don't like to just say things, I don't feel like saying something if it's not worthwhile, if that makes sense. Sometimes people just talk to fill up empty space in a conversation, which can be really good sometimes. But I hate doing that. If I don't have something to say, it's likely I won't say anything at all. I think that's what leads people to believe that I'm shy or quiet or whatever. So yeah. I don't think I fully said what I was trying to get across. But just remember that if I don't say something to you, it's not because I don't like you or don't like being around you, it's because I don't want to force a conversation that doesn't mean anything to me.

Monica will be here in less than 24 hours.