This? Oh. This.

I miss you. I miss the way your eyebrows frame your face and the way your eyelashes frame your eyes and the way your eyes tell the story even more than your lips do.


I miss you and I wish you were here to remind me of what it is like to belong to something. I wish I could turn to you and show you this poem and you could laugh at the way my sick voice makes me sound like a chain smoker. I want to quote lines from songs only we know to you and for you to laugh at my jokes that are so dumb that they've lost their funny and found different funny.


I want you here even if it is just to tell me that this blog post is cliche and that I ought to write something worthwhile, but this is about you, don't you know?


I meant it when I said those words, even though you turned those words into a Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World/500 Days of Summer reference, but then I just meant the words even more.


Without you, I am somehow simultaneously stuck with writer's block and struck with immense inspiration. You have turned me into whatever the noun form of antithesis is.

Did I mention that I see you everywhere? I do. I see you everywhere. I see you when I sing and I see you in the way that people walk and the way that my teachers pronounce certain words. I see you when I wear that one shirt you like on me and I see you when I see babies with eyes that are as large as dinner plates, just trying to take in some small piece of the world.

You are a part of me now. 

I see you, and, therefore, me -- us -- everywhere.

Though as much as I miss you, do not worry about me, for I am fine. I am fine even with this awful head cold sent from the devil himself and I am fine because you left your thumbprint on my soul and even when I miss you, I can feel the ridges from your fingertips and I know that I am fine. I know that you are fine.

So I leave you with 17 syllables, which is exciting, because our language isn't a syllabic language.

This? This is for you. It's by me. I called it "Coming up Empty":

I tried to write this.

But you exhausted my supply.
So I came up empty.

Cough, cough. More Advil.

All my love,

Addy

Day 04: No one wants to hear about what I ate.

So instead of writing about what I ate today, I had this whole entire post set up about why everything is fine even though it was all completely a sarcastic, cynical complaint about my life and why I am stressed. So I deleted it. Because in real life, everything is fine. Even if it's also entirely imperfect. The following is a list of thirteen reasons everything is fine. In real life.

1.) Jake Meyer told me I look good. Everyday. It's fine.

2.) The English girls read my blog. It's fine.

2b.) As does Karissa. It's fine.

3.) My hair is soft today. It's fine.

4.) I spoke to Dakota for a total of three seconds. It's fine.

5.) I still think Cache is the cutest thing ever. Plus, I still want him a teeny, teeny bit. Mostly, I think, because I now know he likes someone else. Which made the day exciting because I got to stare at him and laugh at his jokes and hope he laughed at mine. It's fine.

6.) I got to see that boy that I actually love whose name I refuse to put on the internet cause no one can know. Except for Katie and Avery and Hayley and Bianca and Ari and Sarah and Shelbie and Mallory and Karissa. But that's all. No one else can know. The point is, I saw him and we chatted and I was entirely smitten by his charm and lovely good looks. It's fine.

7.) My grades are okay. They aren't as good as I'd like them to be, but they're okay. They're better. It's fine.

8.) Today was Thursday. As in, The Almost Friday. That's good. It's fine.

9.) I get to cover the LP/AF game for some newspaper thing I don't really understand, but I'm still ultra-excited. It's fine.

10.) Talking of newspaper, I feel really good about my piece for this month. It's fine.

11.) It's nearly February, and you know what February means! That's right! National Bird-Feeding Month! It's fine.

12.) We came into Journalism today to find pictures of cats in tutus and cats in teacups and cats curled up looking at you with pleading eyes on all of our computers. Mrs. L-S stuck them up. She's weird and probably my favorite woman ever. I desire to be be her very best friend even though she's my teacher. It's fine.

13.) Tomorrow, I shall nap. The quarter shall be over and everything shall be fine. I will refuse to worry and I will have a fresh start. My new year officially begins tomorrow.

Everything, per usual, is fine. I'm sure of it.

Bake something tasty.

All my love,

Addy.