Hahahahhahha my day…
So it’s like 3 degrees outside and it was below 0 in the morning. Anyway so I step outside and my face almost freezes off and I can’t even keep my hands out of my pockets without gloves on because I would legitimately get frost bite. I’m at the musis school rn and am currently having the most amazing day. Started off right with a good hazelnut coffee and Chinese, then a somewhat interesting econ lecture, then a cancelled english class (!!!!) and then chilling with Amy and drinking dat bubble tea.
It was hilarious because she’s going on and on about the wind making her cry and I’m like Amy we need to catch this goddman BBaits bus and so we’re kind of speedwalking and this dog comes up to me and is the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life (it was a blue-eyed Siberian husky with white/brownish fur) and it sniffed me and of course Amy’s like Annie forget the damn dog we need to get on the bus. So we get on and apparently the bus driver goes “of course I’d wait for two pretty girls” and I’m dying because I didn’t even realize that he’d said that and Amy’s cracking up because of my obsession with the dog.
And anyway I love life right now even though it’s single digits outside.
Oh and B and his flirtatious texts IDK. Too confused ok bye
I really really wanna talk about my not actually my boy boy.
His name is B and he’s adorable and he’s in a frat. He is super sweet and super shy and he’s in the music school. I remember seeing him around and thinking he was cute, but what with my track with boys I never thought anything of it.
Then I started seeing him at the parties his frat threw, and on Saturday night I ran into him again and hugged him and he was sober as fuck. He was wearing a basketball jersey and I was so wasted I probably could not have even been able to tell you who I was with at any given moment, but I remember collapsing on a couch with my leg crossed over the other and observing my drunken friends ranting about something. He came by and touched his hand to mine and my smile was dreamy, that I’m sure.
And his scruff was scratchy too.
Anyway I got his number and today I ran into him at the music school and we hugged and he was so cute. As I left my friend smiled, turned to me and said “I saw that!” and I swear that is one of the times I have ever smiled that widely.
I love my life.
you are tall, handsome, smart and funny and your hair sticks up in odd places but have I ever mentioned that I always thought you are adorable despite the fact that you tower over me? and now you’re gone and i’m still here (missing you insane)
today i attempted to buy a 2-pack of bic lighters at CVS just to have, and the lady squinted her eyes at me then asked me for ID. took it out - “you’re not 19”.
“oh, you have to be 19? i thought it was 18. sorry.”
she scanned my developed photos while tut-tting at me and telling me that i was too young to smoke. i was going to correct her, to tell her that i didn’t smoke, but she was on a tangent, going on about how she had to quit three times, how she started smoking at 18. “too young, too young”, she kept saying.
i left CVS feeling odd.
my friend and i took an always enjoyable trip to nyc. which, admittedly, would have been much more enjoyable if it hadn’t be 91 degrees. we first went to union square where i bought a small bottle of strawberry apple juice at the farmer’s market. then we had max brenner’s and we had this ridiculously cute waiter who i was kind of/sort of flirting with and on our check he wrote “thank you!!” with two winky faces and when we left he smiled at me and i regret not giving him my number :( oh well, maybe next time!
then we subway’ed it down to soho where we did a little shopping and i saw a mclaren!!!!! and i bought the cutest little dress at topshop that has maracas on it :)
then we spent around an hour looking for a subway and ended up finding one (finally) and subway’ing it up to west village where we walked billions of blocks to find the highline. i fell iN LOVE with west village. all these quaint little apartments with stoops in front and flowers growing on the window-sills. there was a little cafe where we sat and i drank mint tea and admired everything around me. highline was absolutely beautiful too. it’s basically a subway rail that was abandoned and was made into this gorgeous garden. the view was stunning and just the tranquility of it all…
fantastic day as always spent in new york. next time we’re hitting brooklyn (we go hard we go hard)
i don’t think i have ever or ever will “miss” people.
i grow attachments, sure, and care deeply for people and friends who leave. sometimes i don’t see them for years. and for a while, i think about them constantly until i wither and back away from such a commitment.
i hate it. makes me wonder if i’ll ever mature from what i am right now - a soul who is embarrassingly incapable of holding onto emotions of love and longevity, who backs away from care and open arms. i cannot keep your love if you are miles and miles away and i am here with only words on a screen to connect with you. it is impossible for me to love you when you are not here, because it has been and always will be better for me not to long for a physical presence beside me that will possibly never be back.
it is selfish, i know. do you know that i long for love and find only this emptiness to replace it? my eyes droop under the weight of such an abyss, an ever-deepening black hole of missing emotion. standing on this cliff, slipping precariously, i fall further and further into possibilities that wander just beyond my reach.
OK, I remember little moments that prickle me in inopportune moments. Brushing white flour off of your shoulders. Walking backwards (into you, always) - your genuine smile. Crinkly eyes. One-button shirts.
And I drown in this sea of little moments. Waves of them overwhelm me. Until I force myself onto the shore, just to feel the grains of sand underneath my palms (to feel realness but really to not feel you) until I find that the pull of the water is beyond my control. Oh, to get away, to get away from the sea, the salt.
I cry to the second movement of Rachmaninoff 2 every night. How is it possible that a human being with blood in his veins and life in his heart wrote such a beautiful piece of music?