And I was like, "..."

We said we were growing down, and we liked ourselves better in cat sweaters. But all it really was was growing up. We realized what mattered and what didn't, don't you think so? We felt childish, but really we realized what we could handle and realized just how much that was. And we realized we didn't have to do things on our own.

It was the realization that we needed each other and that was fine to need someone, because we were children again, and children are allowed to need other people. But really, we were just growing up.

We stopped trying, I think. We stopped wishing so much and pretending to be someone who we were not. Even with keys of our own, we allowed ourselves to be a little bit younger, but also a little bit older.


They gave us so much growing space, but we didn't even notice all of this immense emptiness and crazy-cricket quiet. We just filled up the space and shed our skin and then all of a sudden we were these beautiful, fleshed-out individuals with drivers licenses and Friend-Boys and friends in general and music and youth -- a lot of youth and a lot of growing down, but growing up, also.


We stopped ourselves from overwhelming everyone and we did something right. I think we said something that changed someone or maybe we wrote something that inspired someone or maybe we sung on pitch. Because karma repaid us. Karma repaid us in pop art and telepathy and thrift stores -- but mostly it gave us each other.


Each other and growing down.


It wasn't about being mature and looking old anymore. It was about cat sweaters, but cat sweaters made us smile and our smiles gave us life and our life gave us maturity, but we were too excited about the sweaters that we didn't really even notice how old we'd gotten and how much of our growing space we had filled.


Maybe it's a paradox. Maybe we're a paradox.


We all teetered on the edge of adulthood, but we couldn't see the cliff through our mustaches and our rainbow cupcakes and photobooth pictures. 


I can't even really explain it to you correctly. 


We're children again, but our souls filled up this enormous space in which we were asked to grow and we didn't even see that whole thing going on until it was quiet and our voices were glowing yellow like the fire and our s'mores tasted like hope and also like the past, but a little bit like the future. 


"Now."
All my love,
Addy

Quality of motion.

And then it is July and I am so worried because I've been stuck in this crevice for so long with nothing to write about and before I know it it'll be August and I'll be blowing out birthday candles and headed back to high school again for "Guess and Hope a Lot That Things Work Out Semi-Nicely" round two and then all of a sudden I'll be wearing a cap and gown and then wandering the streets of Manhattan and living off of goat pops alone because I'm simply trying to pay my tuition and hopefully dating someone tall and skinny and cultured (fingers crossed) and then we'll have kids and our kids will have kids and out of nowhere I'll have gray hair and wrinkles everywhere and I'll maybe even consider Botox for a split second, and I'll wake up one morning and realize I can't see without my glasses or move without my walker and then the next morning, I simply won't wake up at all.


I am praying for quality in my motions. When I realize I can't see or walk, I don't want to realize I never did anything with myself, too.


I can't breathe easy, either.
All my love,
Addy


P.S. On a lighter note, remember this shirt? Guess which lucky girl found it in a Park City coffee shop yesterday called "Atticus" (As in, "Finch"): me. That's who.

Something Terrible.

One day, we will not remember how it is to be young.

So, live your life NOW. Have cake fights and eat and fall recklessly in love. Dress up and make sarcastic remarks and get yourself suspended. Sneak out and make out and act out. Take lots of pictures. Kiss lots of boys and run around without a bra on. Listen to good music and go to lots of concerts and do the things you've always wanted to do. Cut your hair all off and splurge on something you'll only wear once. Buy vintage clothing, wear red lipstick for no reason, write letters, take a chance, jump off cliffs, sing songs, learn to play the guitar, try new things and laugh much.

This isn't Neverland, loves.

I've always believed that life is rather simple, really. What happens, happens. What does not, does not. The past is the past. We give what we get. The only way to have a friend is to be a friend. This does not mean we can allow ourselves to be content with sitting around and doing nothing, because what happens, happens and there is doing we can do to change this BECAUSE THIS IS NOT TRUE. We cannot control the past, and for the most part, not the future. Quite frankly, there are many elements of the present moment we cannot bother or change or control. But we can control one thing, and if that is all, then that is enough: our attitude. Happiness is a choice. It is a disposition. Choose to be happy. In life, we are faced with choices. We can choose. We can make decisions. We can fall in love, or fall in hate. We can make babies or make art. We can sit silently and hate everything and not be a part of anything, or we can dance with our heads held high. To be somebody, we must not be afraid to be nobody. And therefore, we become somebody....

I've always said not to regret anything. But this is my deepest regret.

I don't remember his name, but rather I remember the way he looked, and the things he wore on those days that feel so long ago. He was taller than me, I think, with dark hair and dark eyes, and, looking back, he wasn't an unattractive boy, but actually quite the opposite. His clothes were inexpensive and his wardrobe limited, and I remember knowing (for some reason) that he was being raised by a single mother; a fatherless, hispanic boy of barely eight or nine. I remember that he had to go to a special classroom for special tutoring while the rest of us stayed in a normal classroom, learning normal things. I distinctly remember going to the bathroom one day while he was walking back from tutoring and he looked into my bluish-greenish eyes with his deep brown ones, wearing a red pokemon t-shirt, and smiled, saying, "Hello, Addy. How are you?" I broke his gaze. I walked faster. I remember feeling so terrible for the way I acted for several days, and avoided him even more, going out of my way to not have to look him in the eye, sit by him, or share crayons with him. I made a choice one night, lying in my bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, that I would be kinder to him, be his friend, look him in the eye, sit next to him, share my crayons with him... I hoped he would forgive me for the way I acted all that time. The next day at school, he was absent. And he never came back.

...What Happened To Me?

I sat there with Sarah on the top stair of the commons area and looked around.

Sometimes I wonder what people experience behind closed doors. That girl? Over there? She's been called "fat" and "chubby" and "overweight." Today, I found out that before her dad was shot and killed, he had two types of cancer. This hit me deeply.

What else are people living with everyday?

I think of how many parents are divorced. I think of how many eating disorders, weight issues, depression, school troubles, lonliness, diseases, financial problems, abusive lovers, drug users... I think of how much I don't know that happens when the blinds are closed and the windows are dark.

We looked around and I thought, "Who would I be spending time with?" It was funny. I looked at Katie Parker, surrounded by popular groupies and nearly laughed. What if we were still best friends now? What would I be like?

Don't get me wrong, I love Katie Parker. But that seems so different from my odd group of quirky, indie friends. She seems so different from Sarah, Katie Thueson, Avery, Ari, Jake Barton, and Roah.

I looked at Brette. I was friends with her once. I can't believe how much she's changed. How much I'VE changed.

I looked at Davis. He isn't even the boy I loved anymore.

I thought of people from elementary school in Orem whom I haven't spoken to for years.

When do people we know become people we knew?

I thought of the girl I used to be - who did everything right. Who never got in trouble, worried about her weight, wore skirts, danced, dreamed of being a professional actress, couldn't run a mile, sat silently, didn't understand perverted jokes, or know the pain of drugs.

I looked at who I've become and thought, "What happened to me?"

Life happened, that's what.

I make so many mistakes now. I get in trouble with administrators, teachers, my parents. I worry about my weight. I wear skirts. I dance. I dream of working on Broadway for a living. I can run four miles solid. I never sit silently. I understand perverted jokes. I have friends who do drugs and I've seen the destruction.

Life happened to me.

The bell rang and I went to class.

But I don't want to forget anymore. I don't want to walk through life blindly, leaving things behind.

I never wanted to grow up. I never thought I would become this person. And yet, I have.

Stay pretty.

All my love, Addy* Sue.