The tempest of my thoughts, contained in a simple page.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Dear Girl With Perfect Eye Makeup,

I can't tell you how glad I am that I got a ride home with you today.

Because I discovered that you are indeed a person of true substance.

I discovered some other things. Mainly that I'm an idiot.

But honestly, when I finally got out of your car after an hour of sitting with you in my driveway, I walked into my house with a familiar feeling in my chest. It's a combination of this warm fuzzy feeling I get when I really bond with someone for the first time, and the small, sad ache of my heart breaking just a little bit.

But it was breaking in a good way.

I don't know how to say it. But it just felt like a few things fell into place, and the sudden, delicate shifting of the pieces jolted me a little like every kind of unexpected inner change always does.

When I got up to my room, I took your advice for a brief minute and pictured it.

Familiar hands. Inside jokes. The same scent.
I posed the delicate question of lunch.
Praying. Hanging out. Dinner?
My parents?
Maybe.
Tall buildings.
Then, May.

And in a lot of ways, you were right.

I could almost see it. The biggest relief was that at least I could (somewhat) clearly see all of it.

Then I remembered that some things still exist in the real world and I became conflicted all over again.

But rest assured, I'll let you know when I figure it out.

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