frightening lives

My lack of interest in...everything has reached an all-time high. I don't want to see people, I don't want to go out, I don't want to do anything. I want to sleep until the world fails.

I had an interesting conversation with my mother today. I told her I was tired, that I wanted to nap, and she exclaimed, "You're nineteen! Why on earth are you tired?" (Cue my bored answer and the tiny click! of me hanging up.)

I'm tired, mom, because there is nothing that I want to get out of bed for. Does she really expect me to jump up in the morning with a smile on my face...to go to an 8 a.m. physics lab? I refuse to waste my excitement on something that drains the life out of me. Ah well.

Wouldn't it be just wonderful if, somehow, the world that's inside your head, that marvelous place of no responsibility and passion and wide-eyed innocence, that forgotten dream of wonderment and creation, that out of reach fairytale of life and beauty, jumped off the pages and became real? If that was the world that was awaiting beyond the confines of my small, modest bed, well, I'd gladly wipe the muck out of my eyes and dance my way through the day, no matter how early the sun chose to rise. But, instead, I look out my window and see what really is waiting for me. And what I see does not impress. What I see is like a needle to my fantasy balloon. POP! It's gone.

And my bed looks awfully comfortable.

luke

It is a year to the day since someone very dear to me took his own life. God, that's weird to say aloud.

You know, I've never enjoyed Valentine's Day. But it was in more of a humorous manner, you know? Jokingly coloring pink hearts black, drawing "X's" in Cupid's eyes, that sort of thing. Now, however, this day of love has taken on a whole new meaning.

On a day when happy couples are swapping spit and candy hearts, I am sitting here remembering. I'm remembering, in the most lovely and heartwrenching way, how much this person meant to me. And to my two best friends. I'm remembering his goofy grin and his gentle heart. And, although tears were shed today, right now I'm smiling, because I'm picturing this person crashing into a room, with a beaming face and a handful of movies. And I'm remembering, hearing, now with a fresh wave of sadness, his footsteps as he crosses the room with his fuzzy red blanket, and I'm feeling, now with a smile on my face, as he softly tucks the blanket around me, doing all he can not to wake me.

One year ago, my best friend and I were driving from college back to our hometown. One year ago, we saw the sign for La Crescent and both started crying. One year ago, upon seeing that normal sign, a sign I see nearly every day when I'm home, everything became real. Luke was gone. And, one year ago today, he still is.

I miss you, Luke, every day I miss you. You cannot possibly imagine how much your short, sweet presence in my life changed me, for the better.

in the park, under a tree, talking to a spider

I've got music in my pocket, a pen in my hand, and a book under my arm. It's a good day. Probably one of the last perfect days before winter hits. You know when you are feeling so lost and so irritable that you just need to walk away from it all for awhile? That's what today is. Sometimes the only cure for depression is sitting under a shade tree listening to Broken Social Scene. I wish I had found this spot earlier in the year. But, no matter, I have it now. It's kind of like making a new friend, except it doesn't end in disappointment. (There's a spider on my book. I didn't expect him to have such good taste in literature.)