Perfection.

The sky. Flowers. If a harmony can produce an overtone. The way Kleenex leans to the side of the box. Sometimes I'll catch a girl in the perfect light and she'll look like an angel or something. The way water spouts from a drinking fountain. A blinking cursor. Hardwood floors. The hem of any dress. Waists. A paper with only letters on it, no smudges or anything crossed out, with consistent handwriting. So hand written final drafts. Clean paper too. Pianos. Faded silver. The word 'daughter'. Eyes, as long as they're not bloodshot. Small children. Clouds. The look of the air in the beginning of spring. Dirt roads without litter. Sea shells. Wrist bones. A clean white window frame. A well-loved cello. A clean sheet of music. A well proportioned paragraph. When someone wears jean that fit them exactly right. Footprints. A lowercase k in cursive. Collarbones. Waves. Sailboats and large masted ships. Prairies. Ribbons. Blue paisley.

I don't do the crying thing about lifted tension. Usually.

Broken Validation

 And so, with threat of light, the flood gates burst.


sing me to heaven

I gave you my word as a gentleman.

So what is happening a lot lately is that for like twenty minutes I'll feel unhappy, and then I talk to you again and the unhappy just shrivels away like a raisin in the sun until it's not there. I can't not smile. I treasure the chances I get to compliment you because I've never before been properly afforded the opportunity. I am still surprised by how happy all this makes me. 


P.S. 'He' is friendly and 'her' is pretty. Since forever. (Duh.)

Smiling In Spite Of Myself

I have no reason to be this happy. None at all. But when you smile, you have this little dimple and I can't do anything about what's on my face at all. The difference is that I don't have to stop myself. I'm still incredulous.
You'd think I'd be bitter or sad. Yes, there is want but no disappointment. What I'm feeling is that I'll have someone. I will find a beautiful person and I'll marry her and we'll have a good life.

Hopefully Yours Someday,

A Hand-Picked Flower

Relief. That's what this is. We're still friends? What? 
I literally am so happy. Not just content. I am happy all the time, except when you're not.(All I could think of was Dennis.) And even then, I'm glad my company is valued. The one-year mark will come and go and we'll miss it because it doesn't matter. This is what it's supposed to be like. 

You are running me down. I can't deal. I know how to speak English. I understand our vernacular. Newsflash: I don't think about you all the time. Don't flatter yourself by acting like I need disclaimers to comprehend what you say to me.

You're finally getting your letter. I promise.
 

My dress fits.

Finally. It's hard to sing when you can't breathe. 
I can't believe this. How could I be so stupid? I'm so far from Arizona it's not even funny. 
So all those little things were just. Deliberate. For a reaction, no more or less. Fishing, if I want to be harsh about it. Manipulation. 
It's just hitting me what I've said. Oh my god. Arizona?!
That's just mean. Except not, because I know it wasn't supposed to be and I was tickled by the thought, not hurt. But whatever. I'm wavering. This is why you're the actress and I'm not.

Thanks Dennis.

I don't want this particular subplot in my life. Unfortunately, subplots develop quietly, often without the initial consent of the writer. I just have to keep it from distracting from the main story. I've been very tempted to write outrageous lies to distract you from my slowly disintegrating brave face. Not that you've ever been fooled by that.
Go help Chad.

We planted a rose garden in the front yard.

It's always breakfast. I don't know why. Eggs and toast with jam and orange juice. And always in that house on 15th. Because of the way the light streams in through the kitchen window. 

I'm going to use every single stupid love quote from the show. Watch.

Like I've said, being up alone in the dead of night gives me this weird strength, a sort of weary disdain toward the opinions of anyone I could piss off. And while I enjoy the feeling of being able to conquer the world single-handedly, it's always in the back of my mind that I'm going to reach the top all by myself. It's very lonely.

There is a feeling you get when you're awake in the wee hours of the morning surrounded by people you love, by people who love you. It's like your soul is right there in front of everyone, like you're naked. The name of the game is vulnerability but. Everyone is naked, so it's okay. There comes a moment when people just start saying things, the most ridiculous things with the most incoherent, ridiculous words, and everybody just sits there knowing exactly what everyone means. 
I didn't cry. I just watched the faces of all the seniors. It was weird. No one really believed they were sitting there in front of everyone. It was this night last year that gave me a good reason to do drama, and it was last night that is making me question whether I should try for Advanced. Because I want that. I want to sit with you all and feel it. I don't want to be outside looking in anymore. I want a waste of a period everyday. 


There's a moment in Follow That Dream. Two beats of bass drum that I feel in the deepest part of me, the ritardando into that last verse. #tears


The tears in your eyes... you have my heart.