Day 2: Your Crush

Dear Crush,

It pains me for us to be apart. I miss you like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter... or something like that. There is a gaping hole in my life without you. The taste of you when my lips move against you... the sweet release when I feel you inside me. I don’t know how much longer I can take this, this life without the bubbly euphoria that blossoms whenever our paths cross.

But I know, I was the one who decided we needed a break. My lifestyle is better, more healthy without you. The rational part of me knows this. It doesn’t make this any easier.

We might be going it alone, but I still think of you often. One day, maybe, things will change and I’ll give in to my palatal desires. Maybe we’ll decide to be friends with benefits, which I think I wouldn’t mind, as long as you don’t mind. 

Until I meet your orangey deliciousness once more,

Alex

Like those surveys on Facebook, but spanning 30 entries of indeterminate length.

Stealing Borrowing this from my friend Lauren, who, incidentally, I write about today. If you want to see the other 29 topics of letters, or just to read general awesomeness, check out her blog! (echo, echo, echo...)

Day 1: Best Friend

Dear Lauren,

I fondly remember the years and memories shared between us, from the time that we met at the tender age of... well, was it 13 for me and 11 for you? to the time we live in now, when our adventures are more sparsely scattered but no less important to me.

We became closer friends in high school, supporting each other while we navigated the unfamiliar territory and inhabitants of South Carroll. We were adopted into the best group people we could have hoped for. Oftentimes we were the only Westminsterians, but this suited fine for planning outings to see plays in town, or carpooling to the coffee house. (I never begrudge you the 3457458 times I drove and the 0 times you did. That’s just how we roll.)

Our teachers... goodness, our teachers. Crazy Wilson and his ramblins (accidentally left the g out, think I’ll leave it), literary or not, and his mysterious disappearance; the “ding” of Santana’s microwave, drawing overhead cartoons, Otto von Bismarck; Lois, Susan, Cynthia, Gary... you made me realize how hilarious and disturbing it is to refer to teachers by their first names.

Books. ‘Nough said.

We love to laugh with each other and at each other, and I hope we never give that up. BFFs forevsies! I love you doll face. Let’s keep this thing we’ve got. You know, the thing, this clandestine love affair that we’ll reveal to world when it’s ready to accept us for who we are... Or, you know, the thing that, well, means we’re, like, friends forever. Yeah. Cool.

Love,

Alex

(P.S. - I do realize that your mum drove us places a few times over the years, for which I am grateful, but including this earlier would have messed up my rhythm, so here it be.) 

P.S. to whoever reads this blog - tumblr may join the graveyard of journals I have left behind over the years. Maybe if I knew more people that have one... it would be more fun.

tumblr

In my younger days I used to start new journals regularly, write one entry, forget about it... repeat.

Here we are, again:

annainn.tumblr.com

Might be pointless, or the perfect solution for a lazy blogger. Who knows.