Czuje sie, jak kupa glupiego, smierdzacego, niemyslacego, samolubnego, egoistycznego lajna. I nie wiem, czy powinnam, czy nie.

List do Segundo:
5 a.m and i can't sleep. Dead tired, but I can't sleep, and that's because i feel like shit. You said you stayed because of me (why? why me? why not your mother, not your friends, not your brothers and sisters?,0) and I certainly hope you had a veriety of more important reasons. I'm sure you did, you were drunk, you prolly said a whole lotta crap you did not mean to say. But if i had a share in your decision not to go, then it's because of me that you're so bitter now. I made you stay. You stayed. You're unhappy now. I made you this way, and worst of all, I still feel trmendously relieved that you stayed. So uncompassionate and cold and self-centered of me, but when i think of the landmines in Afghanistan, I push the kids' images away. The only person I can see getting blown up is you. I simply didn't wanna lose a friend like you. If maybe, just maybe, you'll get to be allright, and someone else dies, it will be because of my few words. For fuck's sakes, why is YOUR life, of all people, worth less than their lives? I would love to get mad at you and scream and yell and hurl sharp objects in your direction, but i know you didn't simply want to be a fucking I'll-be-home-for-Xmas hero. You wanted to help, you knew they needed you and I kept you in Spain. You are the one getting smashed every night now, you're the one with nightmares of body parts flying across the desert, and I am still overjoyed that you didn't get into this hell. I know that I will have to disappoint you one day, because if I truly was the main reason, I may not have been worth the sacrifice, hun. But it doesn't matter whether you hate me or not, i don't give two shits about your emotional turmoil and I am close to exploding, that's how happy i am knowing I will find you alive and in one piece.

Melodramat pierdolony. Dlaczego powiedzial, ze zostal przeze mnie? Jestesmy dobrymi przyjaciolmi, blizszymi teraz niz kiedykolwiek wczesniej, ale czy to nie przesada?! Jezeli bylam glownym powodem tak wielkiej decyzji, to on czegos ode mnie oczekuje; nie wiem czego i nie wiem, czy urosne do jego wyobrazen o La Abeja Maya. Kurwa. Musze to jakos wynagrodzic, nie sobie, nie jemu, ale tym, co telepia sie po nocach w jego glowie.