I like to drink coffee and tea and I like to sing by myself in the car. I like running errands in the heat of the day. I like vegetables more than sweets but I like sweets more than meat. I like to talk about my health problems and I like to make to-do lists and I like to tell others things that I shouldn’t.
For a long time, I thought that it took a lot to get me to fall in love. I thought that it took months of talking or dating or kissing for me to fall in love with someone else. But I don’t think that’s accurate. I think the truth is, it takes very little to get me to fall in love, but it takes a lot to get me to say it. There’s a sick pleasure in being in love and refusing to admit it, and yet I have lived a significant portion of my life there. Two weeks ago April told me that if I was a Disney character, I’d be Meg from Hercules and I laughed because it’s true.
I laugh a lot–mostly at myself. I laugh at my own jokes and how I still can’t do a cartwheel. I laugh when I’m stressed to keep the lump in my throat from growing larger. This morning I laughed when I looked at my facebook feed and the first post was from a guy I used to date saying how he liked growing up, when I knew it wasn’t true.
I like to pretend to know what I’m doing. I like to wear clothes that make me feel pretty and to wear my hair down and to write blog posts in my head. I like to search for brunch spots with Reilly and I like that Thea and I share clothes and I like that I forget things. I like my handwriting and my body and sometimes I feel bad for saying that I like my body while I know that my friends don’t like theirs. My fully natural hair makes no sense and today I left the house without wearing a bra.
I’ve spent more hours in a theatre this past week than I have in my own home and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. I like that Mat walks me to my car every night and I like that I hope he will kiss me, even though he won’t. I like to hope for things that I know won’t happen and plan for futures I may never see. I like the bruises on my knees that remind me I am doing something crazy with my existence.
I am a mess of contradictions and I will not apologize for that. I want to be a mermaid and my best stroke is the doggy paddle. Last night I turned myself into a hypochondriac, even though Laura would make fun of me for it. My mom says that I have a lot of force in my hands, so it makes me laugh when people tell me they are delicate. I want to cry when I see old people by themselves and I bawled when I accidentally killed a gecko. I like to do other people’s eyebrows but I always pay someone to do mine because threading hurts more and I am a masochist.
I am so very in love with a boy who claims he hates everything but perhaps tomorrow I will love someone new. Or perhaps I won’t. I could wake up tomorrow and head out into the world and meet the love of my life and that would be it. Or maybe I won’t meet anyone new at all and die happily alone. Maybe I will never fall in love again or maybe I will marry this boy who hates everything.
I have no idea what will happen but I am filled with hope for a future that I cannot plan and adoration for a universe I continue to fall in love with.