Tinted teeth.

And I faked a phone call and lied through my teeth to a boy who is becoming something good and when I didn't stick it out and make it a good experience I felt awful.


I didn't feel full. I didn't feel full like when there were still people in my kitchen at one in the morning the night before or full like when we didn't sleep at all or full like sitting on a hill and watching Fleet Foxes or full like I felt when he played with my hands. I didn't feel full like when we finally went back to Del Taco after so long a hiatus. I didn't feel full like when we made music all morning.


When I tinted my teeth with a little lie because I didn't want to stick it out and be happy and witty and outgoing, I didn't feel full. I felt like an empty sell-out.


And I wondered what the aliens who abducted me had done with the real me.


But I suppose that some emptying would be required before all very full glasses could become full again.


There is a cactus on the ceiling.
All my love,
Addy

This post is all truth. For the most part.

In case you are the type who is curious, I just thought I would clarify: Perfect Boy Whom I Love, is, in fact, perfect. The day he was born, the doctors were so taken aback by his beauty and intelligence and smashing sense of style (he began dressing himself in the womb, so don't even try and fight me on this one) that they called in a group of scientists (a Frenchman, an American, the Queen of England (she was a scientist in her past life), the Pope (his case is the same), a German, an Italian, and a Russian). They gave him scores. The scores were based upon attractiveness, sense of style, ACT score, ability to time travel, and amount of time spent with his nose in a book/newspaper/the like. Frenchman: 10.00. American: 10.00. Queen: 10.01 (she's the Queen, so she's allowed to do that). The Pope: 10.01 (his case is the same). The German: 10.00. The Italian: 10.00. The Russian: 08.52. (They discarded the Russians score. It was so obviously biased.) Eventually, they came to the agreement that, although he seemed perfect currently, they could not actually proclaim him The Most Perfect Boy Ever To Grace Our Humble Planet until he smiled. So, the entire team of scientists (minus the Queen (she had a country to watch over), The Pope (he died - of natural causes, so don't worry), and the Russian (no one liked him; he was too obviously biased - he could've at least hid it better)) followed him around until he smiled his first genuine smile. It was in the third grade. They all cried, on account of, he was obviously The Most Perfect Boy Ever To Grace Our Humble Planet.

This post was all truth. Except for the part I made up.

Put dirtballs in your pocket and take off both your shoes.

All my love, Addy

Secrets.

Secret: I like court TV.

Secret: I come across as a darkly sarcastic cynic. I'm really only an optimist hiding behind my sarcastic remarks and my buns on top of my head.

Secret: I am not impressed with my grades.

Secret: I stress about things that I should leave behind.

Secret: I've never kissed anyone.

Secret: I'm a procrastinator.

Secret: I'm a pretty good liar.

Secret: I don't enjoy lying. Even if I am really, really good at it, I hate doing it. It eats away at me.

Secret: I am a guilty sinner.

Secret: I don't pray as often as I should.

Secret: I generally have ulterior motives for doing the things that I do - good or bad.

Secret: I wear my cheap jeggings way more often than I would like to admit.

Secret: I don't know what I am going to do with myself when I move out.

Secret: I still hate running. Even after nearly two years of consistent runs. I've run in 18 degree weather, snow eating away at my skin. I've run in 108 degree whether along the beach and stopped to watch dolphins. I still hate it.

Secret: I care. About everything. Everything. Even when I put on the great facade of "I'm Addy. I'm cool and collected and carefree." I'm actually far from cool, an absolute mess, and hardly carefree.

Secret: I covet Bianca's collection of sweaters.

Secret: I worry about my future every day.

Secret: I am happy about the changes.

Secret: I am happy about most things. I am, after all, an optimist.

What are your secrets? Will you comment and tell me a few?

Go running.

All my love, Addy.