For Our Friendship

I remember the time you told me I’d probably enjoy watching “Family Feud.” I didn’t know you were right until ten years later, taking a break from filling out job applications. I didn’t do that on purpose either. Oh no. Whenever “Family Feud” was on back then, I was too busy trying to graduate. After the pressure of trying to fit in faded, I felt free to turn on the TV. It feels kind of wrong you can’t be here right now for me to tell you in person, but I know the way things turned out was the way it was supposed to.

There’s a piece of you sitting on my bookshelf. You cemented your place as my friend when you made that disappointed face after I told you I showed my mom the note you left for me in the inside front cover of a novel I lent you and she asked, “Who is that?” I thought it was funny, but you did not. That’s the moment I knew you had been hoping I saw you as more than a friend. You left that note in pen. Cheeky. A permanent stain for a temporary moment.

Now I see your updates with her on Facebook. I am happy for you because we both know I could never be that girl in the end. I’ve never met her, yet I know she’s a much better fit for you and obviously you know it too or you wouldn’t have married her. Still, there you are, a note inside a book sitting on my bookshelf. The memory of my mom asking who you are sticks with it. Talk about a family feud.


We should all be superheroes.

Accepting your own flaws is harder than accepting someone else’s flaws. You can always escape from someone else one way or another, even if just for a couple of hours. But you can never escape from yourself, so your flaws are always there, trying to play peek-a-boo with you whenever they feel like it, usually at the most inconvenient moments possible. Wouldn’t it be great if we had a Sleeping Beauty timer on our flaws? It would only allow our flaws to show when they could help us gain favor somehow, like showing someone we care about that yes, we’re human too and make mistakes. The rest of the time we should be able to let our flaws stay dormant and appear to be Super Girls and Boys to everyone else.

(I know, I know. That’s not how life works. A girl can always dream, right?)


I always wonder if I’m following my own thoughts or listening to someone else’s. And if I’m listening, who am I listening to? I think at this point there’s never going to be a way to know for sure and maybe it’s not even worth figuring out.