I've been trying to write about Casey for a long time now, so that I can deal and move on, but it just isn't working out. Everything I write seems trivial, or just wrong. I love him and I want to understand what he did, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job. I'm writing about it here in the hopes that it will unjinx me, sorta like calling someone up about your broken computer and suddenly having it start working as soon as they answer the phone. I don't post here often enough that people actually read it, I think. It should be safe. Anyway, if someone is actually reading this, be warned that it is depressing. And poorly written. Sigh.

Here is what I wrote for him yesterday. It's the best I've done so far. Everything else got closed without being saved. I hate it, though, and will probably delete it later. The joys of writing on the computer, I used to have to throw away stuff I didn't like. Deleting is much easier. Anyway. For you Casey. I'm sorry it's all I've been able to do so far.

He stood in the darkness of the low ditch next to the freeway, close enough to feel the breeze from the passing cars pushing against his body but far enough way that the drivers couldn’t see him. There wasn’t a lot of traffic this time of night, but it would be enough. His arms were beginning to ache from the weight of the typewriter, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he barely felt it at all. As soon as the lights of the last car flitted past, he rested the typewriter on the lip of the divider and slipped over, pulling it down with him on the other side. Smiling now, he walked down the sleek, unbroken pavement with the typewriter cradled in his arms. It wouldn’t be long.

The first car saw him somehow, the headlights glinting maybe from his eyes or teeth. It swerved frantically, causing him a quick flicker of despair before he saw the second car. They obviously had not seen him. He felt the impact and there was a sharp slap of pain, which quickly faded. He’d dropped the typewriter somehow, and it shattered as it hit the ground. Panicked voices came from somewhere behind him. They heard me, he thought in the moment he had before the darkness fell, someone finally heard me.