Friendship is missing them more than you miss taco bell, and wondering if you've ever gone a week without seeing them before...and doubting it.

I read one of my best friends' most recent blog post and my heart swelled with affection towards her.  I miss her so much that I might just blow up.  Reading her post, I couldn't believe just how lovely and innocent she still is.  Stay golden.  Please don't let some boy ruin your aura, as one came close to doing to mine.  You have a few qualities that I have since lost, and they make you who you are, as they define me through my lack.  You're beautiful and one of the best friends I could ask for.

Shonka, this one's for you.

Oh, friend, I love our inside jokes and

riding a on tandem bike and

laughing hysterically and

saving your butt and

our friendship and

everything else,

 but mostly

I just love you.

With great affection, Cholo.

Happiness is finding a random message on your phone that says you're amazing from a truly wonderful friend. ....and taco bell.

The little ways my dear friend Kelsey [at least, that's who I think it's from] shows me what she thinks of our friendship warm my heart and make me smile.  Take a moment and share in the happiness that you have friends that care about you like I doubtlessly do.

Anyway. . .

I decided I will write something similar to what I wrote last year.  I thought I'd tell all y'all in case you ever wanted to ask me if you could read it.  The differences will definitely be great-for instance, I doubt this one will mainly be about blaze and how he made last summer a soap opera.  We'll see what happens.

My aspirations to write every night quickly pummelled into the ground. Ehhh.  So did my hopes of not sleeping past ten this summer.  I think it's justifiable to sleep till noon if you can't get to sleep until three, though...right?

some are bright,

some dark.

some flutter,

some sink to my feet.

these butterflies

you give to me

that i am aware of every time

i see you

or you text first

they don't let me forget.

some remind me that

we could be the best pair there's

 ever been.

others remind me of the

low chance of it happening.

sometimes, they jump into my throat

immediately obstructing any sound or word

i wished to say.

sometimes, they pull my heart down to my toes

when i see your name on my phone.

sometimes, they take control of my fingertips

forcefully attempting to get my feelings across

to you, in the medium of text.

i manage to stop that just in time, though.

they tug on the corners of my mouth up

when you say a trademarkedly sweet thing to me

they tug on the convers of my mouth down

when i look at my phone and see that approximately

two hours and forty three minutes have gone by

with you clearly not remembering my existence.

these butterflies,

they think they have

my crush in the bag

they whisper hopes and doubts

in the dark of night

these butterflies,

they wonder

if they have friends

in you, as well

you give me butterflies...

do i,

possibly,

maybe,

hopefully

give you some too?

love, laura

A watched window shows no friends.

It's funny because the word "cluck" looks like "duck", but that's the
sounds chickens make, not ducks.  It's very misleading.

...It's funny what a day alone can do to your mental health.

Later usually turns into never.  Proven.

Thanks, Kelsey, for saving the day at eight o'clock.

Love to her and others that I love,
Laura.