The red 19 comes at an odd time this year, in terms of where and why and how I feel about my life. Perfect red lipstick marks around my birthday make "I'm sorry" so much easier to say (take). Christmas cards and subtle hints try to fill in for what's missing. Try to fill it in with anything that looks substantial, and leaves us with the option not to think. If I get through tonight without passing out, I promise you I'll never dream again.