So I'm in college. What's up?

if you Google my school the only thing that comes up is the basketball team. And people everywhere will ask if I know the stars. But naming a constellation doesn't mean you know it's background. Orion only made it into orbit because he failed his day job,
and no one remembers his day job. They only want to know which electric current you can send them on to make their average lives feel glorious. They want to touch the moon without the years of preparation for the white suit.

The washed out treat friendship like a stepping ladder to that elusive minute with happiness, but I'm too low a rung to swipe my I.D. card for something to do on Friday night. They think a pair of sneakers can tell you everything about the benefits, like my alarm clock is some kind of advertisement for my profit. The early bird only gets the worm when no one else chooses to embrace the rain. Because God answers more prayers with thunder than he does with early morning skies.

Life is a balancing act and win or lose you touched the wire. I'm not saying it was worth it and I'm not saying it wasn't. I just know if you choose the irrelevant and come away unhappy no one wants to wipe your tears, they all have birthday parties to go to.

And if you think that the scratched walls they check once a month are anything but home you're in for a stiff 8 months. filled with people you probably should have gotten to know better and people you'll never see again. You're in for questions about the highest level the ladder reaches and you better get them right. Because the people digging themselves mountains don't realize there won't be treasure at the bottom of the trench. It's just a steep hike to a view of all the other somebodies who had to make themselves known.

And I guess that's a little harsh to say, because I don't know their day jobs either. But when it comes down to it, people stopped caring about what's behind the followers a long time ago.

Lake P.

It's been a year since we last talked but I spent the last week of my time with your little brother and instead of sleeping I looked at the stars, scared of how much I saw you.
It was the past I locked up in dreams and regrets and the thread came undone with a tug at simple mannerisms and genetic phrases.
It was you but it was all wrong
and I missed every second of right.

I thought I could tell you Happy Birthday.
Because you never seemed to forget.

But a simple reply and I had a spiraling staircase at my feet and for some reason I tried to walk down on my hands. No one's balance will last forever, but a girl can dream, right? And you didn't have to see the tumble or clean up the scraped knees under ripped jeans and you didn't watch your younger brother dig up our grave with jokes and patterns and a smile that is too close to the one you gave me when we danced.

"you always smile when we talk about him"

Don't tell me that. Don't you dare look me in the eyes and tell me the oceans he put between us and the years I put between our hearts didn't save something. I don't want to be rewarded with memories and rainy nights and car rides that made streets stand still.

But this isn't about the 16 year old who had earthquakes in his veins and firecrackers to throw at my feet. This is for the 19 year old who took me to Cafe Rio and asked me not to be stupid senior year and lit a match beneath my dreams with a hot air balloon ride tied to the future.

 I dreamed about your arms.
I dreamed about the way you held my hand like you were the first man on the moon and history deserved celebration. But when my eyes opened in the morning all I saw was his red shorts to match your old red jacket and a smaller wingspan with less of a history.

I think I'll write you a letter today, but only to remind you how much your mini is just like you. And how proud you should be of the person he's becoming.
And partly because I think I'd like to test my balance again.

I had an open house after graduation. I invited all my friends.

They didn't come.

They all went away this weekend.

"Oh my gosh we totally forgot to invite you, but you're probably working anyways, right?"

And I can honestly say it was the first time I didn't leak because I felt left out.

I wasn't sad.

I wasn't angry.

I was slightly hurt, but mostly

 just done.

Done with the high school cliques and the high and mighty games. Done chasing a pot of gold they were never going to give. Done with the girls who claim I'm invited but drop the conversation after "cute shoes."

You voted me Prom Queen, and President, and the most competitive senior superlative. 

I was a track team record holder and a cheerleader and I tried so hard to be so nice to everyone.

I did everything I could.
But it wasn't enough for you to want to see me on the weekends. 

You folded me up and put me back on the shelf until Monday morning rolled around and you needed something dark to cover the bloodshot whites.

I never had girlfriends in high school.

 And maybe that's why I was so upset over my boyfriend. 

He was my only best friend because no one else would be.

All I ever wanted was to be your friend.

But when I was looking for someone to call to calm the shock of Monday night, not a single one of you made the list.

I was searching for reliability and it was a closed audition - not that you wanted to sign up anyway. 

My mom wants me to throw an end of summer party and invite all my friends.

But I don't want her to get excited when I know the dusty way they accept my invitations.

TUESDAY COME SOONER.

I waited too long to tell you, and too long to realize.

(Technically it's not too late because you haven't died quite yet,) but something about screaming into the void doesn't sound appetizing. I cried driving to Provo today. I smashed my car against a wall that said you weren't coming to Provo. Not today or Ever. I'll walk campus alone and you'll walk the streets with people I'll probably never meet. and it's the way it's supposed to be.

Cause this, money can't buy this. and we, we are something special.

You don't want to mess with a lunar eclipse. You don't want to throw off the rhythm the rocket ships beat in as they pass through your heart. You just want to watch the music.

But open a bottle of the perfect wine too early and you've wasted a lot of value. No, I'm not saying we're the million dollar wedding, I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to find out. And if we only get halfway there we can split our differences and go back to growing.

3 hand written letters and a box of old T-shirts. I have 3 pictures of you in my room and it's not enough to keep you around. Your mother told me to come visit, and your sister will always keep in touch, but it's not you. it's still not you.

You, who made wonderful synonymous with a smile. You, who was the first to hold on longer than I. You, who made the first hard goodbye and the only person with their own dedicated album. You, who made it all go away and all stand on the front lines at the same time. You, the man worth a weekly occurrence. You, the one I can't stop racing for. You, You, You, the one I have words for.

Words that stuck to the back of my throat like fly paper. Words in the form of thick honey, too sweet and too slow moving. Words that would change things. And that's all I have left now, words for you that I was always too afraid to let walk home alone.