.my second favorite part of you.

one miss katie blodgett.
she left yesturday.
she left to live in germany for 5 months.
if i had to describe her-
i'd say she's like drinking a glass of orange juice.
she's my citrus best friend.

i called her from her garage.
handed her a parcel.
hugged her.
we exchanged i love you's.
i'm the worst at goodbyes.
and so she's gone.


and when I think about it- I think one of two ways:

1. i day dream about what she's seeing and what she's doing and the brightness of it all. 
2. i think about how much I'm gonna miss her and wish she was around in the next 5 months.

I like the first one better.

I like thinking about her voice standing out in a sea of foreign ones.
I like to think about her riding on the tube, wearing coral, listening to her ipod, and staring out the window.
I like to think about her laugh-
her laugh bringing warmth to strangers that will melt them into friends.
I like to think about her wearing her toms on a rainy day and regretting it.
I like to think that this time for her and God
is an adventure of unfathomable proportions.

I miss her.

I'm glad.

.far off.

i like to be whatever people need me to be.
whatever they want me to be.
people have been doing it for years.
and i'm that person.
that person for that moment.

you tell me what you want.
ill be that.

i'm sure i can swing it.

you need someone to cry with you?
that's my specialty.
you need someone to be quiet?
i think i can handle that.
you need someone to make you laugh?
i can manage.
you need somone to lie to you?
not hard at all.
you need someone to remind you of the truth?
i'll do my best.
you need someone to listen?
for sure.
you need someone to drown out the noise of the world?
i'll take care of that.
you need someone to yell at?
im game.

i couldn't today.
i didn't today.

i want to be whatever they need me to be.
.that's never enough.


.it's not enough.

.dear kylee larson.

not bad- unless you eat the soggy craisins with the orange flavored carrots.

.lure i can't deny.

i laid flat-backed on an airmattress.
sprawled out.
bare feet on the walls.
with her.
with out her.
writing. praying. drawing.
there.
on the floor.
on the balcony.
she took a walk.
sat overlooking it all.
didn't need to speak.
we discovered.
i almost feel like i'm laying there.
there in the cloud of that ambiance.

more and more
i remember this feeling,
it was the feeling of the time and place.
like a whiff of an empty perfume bottle.
i can still smell it but there's nothing left.
as soon as i smell it
i think maybe, just maybe theres a little bit more
i turn it over gently and pray for a drop.
nothing.
nothing.
i want it to permeate my soul.
but there's just a faint remnant of what was.

(there's a slight possibility that it might just be the smell of my sister's apartment)

i don't quite know how to go about recovering it.
i don't know how to get it.
but i'm going to go search for it.
it's almost a taste and a smell.
i can just remember it- it's in my chest.
a feeling that consumes those memories.
when i think about those days i can almost grab it.

i've never felt that before.
it's specific to that time frame- i wonder if that means that it
can not be duplicated.

it's specific.
i can feel it in my chest when i think about those days.
i can almost smell it.
i can almost touch it when i look at those pictures.
so i'll look again.
and try to piece together some plan of how to get back to it.
how to be there in that feeling again.
i wonder if it can be done.

can i get that same culmination of senses without the same circumstances?

i pray that it can be done.
Lord, please lead me to that. help me catch it.

honestly, i don't know how to explain. it's not about who i was. it's not about getting that time back. it's that feeling. that almost tangible aroma that saturated me while i was there. i need to go back. even if it's just to find that it doesn't exist anymore. even if it's to find a different smell.

.the brink.

it wasn't the right kind of love. it my horrid twisted version of it. i figured out i'm not so good at the love thing, but i'm great at the co-dependent thing. finally- someone understood me more than i thought humanly possible. i loved having the kid be the first person i wanted to tell things. i loved being that person for the kid. i loved learning about the deep. i loved letting the kid into my deep. i told him friendships meant everything. it was safe from a distance. it always is. i warned the kid. i warned the kid i was crazy. and he never made any promises that he was going to keep. nothing i could hold against him. just another lesson in the process of being learned.

(i wrote a letter here. i deleted it.)

this whole thing. it's not big. but it does matter. need to stop wishing that God would salvage things.  it's better this way. That kid and i will never make future plans. We'll never sing together. We will never travel the coast togethter. We'll never go to each other's weddings. We'll never be real friends.

i want to learn how to love people in a healthier manner- love them better.

I love my God.

I tried to love someone and it failed. Learning what not to do.

.don't cry, you liar.

i have so much going through my head.
but it's late.
and as soon as i formulated these thoughts into sentences
with funny sadness and biting remarks in the car...
as soon as i sit down to write them they leave me.
perhaps i'm tired of crying for the night.
perhaps i'm just tired.

i want to write a letter.
a letter to the charachter i continue to give power to in my life.
a letter to him.
and a letter to me.

i want to tell you about lying.

i want to tell you about how someone honked at me tonight. they were beside me. and i was crying and looking at my phone. and i don't know why they honked. the light was red. i don't know why they honked.

i want to tell you about the past.


where do i start?

a letter.