last night matt went to this party that he didn't really want to go to. he said he was only going to stay for an hour, and then come home. around midnight i still wasn't worried. i just figured he was probably having more fun that he'd anticipated, and decided to stay longer. i've done that a million times. then, around 2, when he still wasn't home, i got a little more worried. there was a part of me that thought, "he probably got drunk, and stayed at jd's." but there was another part of me, a much bigger part actually, that thought, "oh my god. someone mugged him. oh my god. the party was in the west loop - someone must have jumped him on his way home. i bet he was by himself. oh my god. matt is dead." i thought about calling his cell phone, but, here's some fantastic logic for ya, i didn't want to wake him up if he wasn't dead.
so i barely slept. all night.
to my relief, i called him a little while ago, and he is still alive, as i'm sure you've probably already guessed.
i'm just extremely fucking neurotic.
surprise, surprise.