I’m sick with some sort of cold, I’m tired, I’m finding myself involved in some love scheme between two good friends and I’m some middleman, Okay, I love wearing large t-shirts/nightgowns to bed, Oozma should have gotten President, AP Literature has taken over my life, Wuthering Heights is an alright read, I miss you, Greta and Valerie visit Georgia in three days, I’m so excited, this school week can be over right now, I love Katy Perry, I have two new Lady Gaga posters, I’m eating more, You make me so happy, I miss Minnesota, I’m not going to fail Pottery, Cody is starting college and I feel bad for the female population there, I’m really tired, I adore Rebecca and her ridiculous situations with boys, I think it’s comical when people ask me for boy advice, I wish my Economics classroom wasn’t so cold everyday, I really love driving around, even though I always get lost when I go somewhere, Thank you God for GPS, Eunji’s mom needs to stop raging because I love my asian, Phone conversations with you are so amazing, Valerie and Greta make me laugh so hard I start crying, I should stop trolling people, but I won’t, I love run-on sentences, I know you do as well, I want to go swimming, I love German, I want to be able to read other books for fun, I love you.
I really love my life.
Find out one little thing, and there goes the potential goodness in your day, thoughts keep getting in the way, not even a scream, a soft little whisper that the bad is on the way, you can’t imagine the pain you’ll feel, so just numb yourself now while you have time, dry your eyes because it won’t be long. Don’t even bother letting panic in, you’ll just break before the fall. Sip your coffee, read your books, play your music, don’t say a word. You’ll be so strong, so unreachable, unable to say a word, rewrite I will not cry in public until your hand hurts, and there’s nothing more to be done. I’m so strong, you say, so strong, but why do I feel so cold?
I don’t like Thursdays.
I love the morning only on days like this, when this house is empty except for me and my cup of coffee. I’ve just been spending my morning alone, enjoying the silence while it lasts, and occassionally listening to old boy bands (this music is terrible, but I can’t help myself) or browsing old books. As Thoreau said, “The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour….and for an hour, at least, a part of us awakes which slumbers all the rest of the day and night.” I remember when I read that passage from Walden, the morning made more sense to me. I hated it a little less.
Once the family returns, I’ll be back in routine, cleaning the house and baking. Lunch with a friend. Dinner with the family. Doing homework. Playing videogames. Never quite processing what I’m doing, never placing any significance on my actions, just doing what I’m used to. Settling for complacency, sticking with the bolded lines of my mapped out cycle. A dead sort of feeling.
But in my routine, there’s always you. You’re my morning. Does that even make sense? You’re the time of day where I feel the most awake. “To be awake is to be alive.” The morning is peaceful, is beautiful, is alive with everything your mind is in dire need of. The morning is where things that normally don’t make sense come into clarity and understanding, and you’re able to take a step forward, create something new. A new pillar in the mind. The morning is a step back from the huge mess our world is, it’s minus the bustling crowds which continue to tangle themselves into self-pity and misery. It’s quiet. It’s medicine for the nerves. It’s a pale sky or endless grey, but the sun’s not beating down quite yet. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, it’s a feeing you can’t give up because its refuge will always draw you back.
Thank you for being in my life. Thank for being my morning in all these endless days. Thank you for being you.
Seriously, I’ve been giving “sass” to everyone in this family along with my sister. I even was doing this during church and managed to get my arm bruised by my sister. I quoted a certain someone during the Church sermon—“dat sass”—and my whole family was like “wut”. Why am I quoting you during church? It’s probably just because I miss you so much, and now that you’re gone my hands have gone back to being freezing cold and I just fill in this emptiness with the fading smell of this t-shirt.
Anyways school is tomorrow. Okay. Going to spend this last day of summer doing absolutely nothing with my life. Yes.