this is not really angst, but moreso at the end. it's a piece from Mark's POV about his friends and what they mean to him. poor Marky, i don't often write about him. I do love the little guy, though.

I don't know what I'd do without them.

For starters, there's Maureen. I've known that girl for years now, and I don't think I've stopped loving her once. She's inconsiderate, self-centered, annoying, high-strung, melodramatic, insane, cheats with everything that moves, and sometimes she can be as shallow as a puddle, but I couldn't resist her if my life depended on it. And when you look deep down, the true Maureen's in there somewhere, and she comes out every now and again. I know that Maureen; she's brilliant and optimistic, with a heart and an imagination bigger than Manhattan. She cares so deeply about things, and she throws herself into them. She's dedicated and so strong that sometimes I'm afraid of her. She's fierce when it comes to us, her friends. As far as I know, there's no one else in the world for her. We're what she's got. But still, our diva…my diva…is one of the most vibrant people I know, plus being amazingly gorgeous. Is it any wonder I fell so hard for her, and any wonder that I can't move on?

Joanne is part of knowing Maureen, at least she is now. Part of me resents her so much it makes me feel sick. She gets Maureen to herself, and to tell the truth, Maureen is so obviously happier with her than she was with me that I can't stand it. But another part of me is able to see past that, and I know that Joanne's a true friend. Maybe because she's from such an upper class background, she has this weird balance between uptight and crazy-ass. Every once in a while, she dips down into either end. Still, she tries her hardest to use what she's got to help the rest of us out. I know she feels left out sometimes when we're together, but I hope she understand that she's just as important to our little family as anyone else.

Collins…what the hell can you say about Collins? He's funny and cheerful and he's got the most comforting smile I've ever seen. Calling him a genius is a bit of an underestimate. He's huge, almost too tall and too strong for his personality, which is pretty much pacifist. He's a few things that I would kill for; for example, this ability to go with the flow, to just let stuff happen and keep it in perspective. I spaz about most stuff; hell, I freak out when I can't find the match to a sock. But Collins…he lets it all go. And he grounds you with him.

But one other thing he's got that I want so badly…something I would kill for: Angel. Or not really Angel per se, more what she is to him. He loves her more than anything else in the world, and I don't doubt that for second. I couldn't if I tried. You only need to watch the two of them together for a moment or two to be certain about that. It makes me happy that someone who I'm so close to can have that. He deserves her, even though he can't get the idea into his head.

Angel deserves him too, and so much else besides. I have never seen anyone with so big a heart and so joyful a spirit. Angel is almost beyond belief; who can give more than they have and still be happy? Who can dance or laugh or smile like she can? And this would be really spooky if it wasn't Angel; I think she can read minds. How else could she seem to know just what's wrong with every person she knows? It's a little creepy sometimes. But mostly it's comforting. Like you have that one person to fall back on when you get knocked down. I think we all need Angel more than she knows. Without her…I don't want to think about what would happen to the rest of us. Especially Collins. Like I said, he loves her more than anything, and she loves him too. She really loves him…in a way that makes me want to cry. It's too strong for me, too deep, too potent. When I watch the film I have over them together, it always seems faded, like my oldest movies. What they have can't be transferred to film. That's why I'm scared of something happening to either of them. When one of them goes…I'll lose that special thing. I won't be able to see it anymore. I can't do that.

Mimi is special too, so special that I can't understand how she ended up here in a dive like this, reliant on The Man and stripping for horny guys who like to avoid life. There's a fire in her; it's a gigantic force that could drive her to do anything if she wanted to. She's like some wild spirit, who can sit still but flies back and forth, moving so fast that she never settles down to look around and see where she is. Mimi could do better than this; she has it in her. And at the same time…I don't think she wants to. I think she loves her life as it is. She's even more addicted to the energy and whirl of New York than she is to the smack. She loves to dance in the Cat Scratch Club, and she gets an enormous charge out of living everyday her way. Plus, I know she's as dependent on us as anything. Like me and all the others, she's found a family in our little group, and she doesn't want to let go. And even if she wanted to, Roger wouldn't let her.

Roger. My best friend. The one who's been there for me since as long as I can remember. Roger's my rock. I know him better than I know myself, and he drives me completely nuts. He's insanely stubborn, and he has these mood swings that are like the ones teenage guys on steroids get. It's so incredibly hard to deal with, and yet I do so every time. Maybe he's not my rock in the sense that I've been able to rely on him and lean on him that much; it's more that he's always needed me, and I need him to need me. When he went into withdrawal, I stayed by him every inch of the way. Those first few hours of the Mimi problem saw me almost guiding him, pushing him along. I even stayed at his house for hours after school and listened to him plink away at the guitar. That's how devoted I am, damn it. That's how much he needs me; he's never really been without me.

Still...he's my best friend, and he does help me out every once in a while. I can count on him when there's real cause for it; I trust Roger with my life. I don't do that with many people.

As for me…I'm here; nowhere. I go through each day, capturing moment after moment on film, missing more and more as I record them forever. I wish I could know that my friends need me as much as I need them, and sometimes I d. But mostly, there's this feeling…like I'm more alone than anyone else. Why I feel sorry for myself like that, I can't say…after all, what real troubles do I have? None that they don't, and I'm a straight, HIV-negative guy. There's no real prejudice against me, no death warrant in my blood. I'm home free as far as the rest of them are concerned.

Then why do I feel like I'm the one whose been cursed, the one whose been stuck with the real sentence? Why do I feel like the task of outliving nearly all my best friends in the world is not a desirable one? Why do I cringe at the picture of myself years from now, sorting through crumbling film reels so that I can have a few minutes of memories? I know why; anyone would. It's hard to be the survivor; I want to pass the torch or the baton, but that's not an option. The only thing I can do is savor it while I can; savor them while I can.

What would I do without them?