Javier Escuella. Your boyfriend for a couple months now. At first it was just some gag, the two of you met at a concert in town and your friends thought you hit it off completely and convinced the two of you to exchange numbers, but you really did seem to like eachother quite a bit.

More than on just a physical attraction too, you guys talked alot. Even about shit that didn't make any sense, though when you smoked pot it all seemed to be just fine. Everything fit together like a puzzle piece. But the fuck does that even mean? Does anything you even say have any connection?

Tonight, the two of you drove out of town for a short trip together. Mostly just driving and camping on the side of abandoned roads, but who cares? That was the fun of it. Being young and in love was so freeing.

Now as the two of you had your feet up on the dashboard of his 1968 mustang you passed the joint back to him after he switched on some music, without even asking your first. A Insane Clown Posse CD began to play. Sure, you had listened to them before... But not with Javier. This was something he liked.