Dear Boy

I'm writing you this letter you will never read. But its okay. I have to write it. I will begin by saying we had some fun. How could fun turn into you awkwardly sulking away into the shadows of the theater where I work, avoiding me like you are a three year old? Somehow the man I once kissed has melted into a toddler who cannot even make eye contact....And I guess its okay. Its just somehow I expected at least a conversation. But I guess even a conversation is too much for for you to handle right now. That's okay. I am perfectly capable of handling it for both of us. Perhaps it could go something like this

"Hey Jenn,"
"Hey Boy"
"I just wanted to clear the air and be adult"
"Oh...okay. Well that is good. No worries. Friends?"
"Friends."

How easy. How simple. I can do it. Can you?

Until we actually make eye contact...
yours truly

o i love this scene.

Dear Campus

Dear Campus,

You are so alive with 'cool' kids I don't know where I fit in. Everywhere I look I see someone propped against an old tree playing their guitar singing softly into the fall air. Sometimes I feel out of place in my standard uniform which usually involves black yoga pants and a some sort of tutu. I know I look out of place amongst your nation of skinny jeans, moccasins, toms, vests, and blow-dried hair quaffs. But can I just say I am happy being who I am? I like to prance around in tutus and pearls and cropped denim jackets I found at a thrift store. And I like to wear my back pack AND purse. And no I will not...under any circumstance...bring my guitar to school. Sure, it might be easier to fit in to your teaming times of abundance unique Indy-esque culture if I carried my guitar- but I prefer the awkwardness of my backpack AND purse. Also I prefer to stay 'unplugged' as I skip around campus.
I know that to be a cool kid you are required to plug into some sort of music listening device, but I don't need to prove to anyone that music is a priority to me over the rest of the population. I like the aesthetic quality of listening to the white noise. The mindless chatter and rustling leaves and whooshing skateboards are quite music enough for me. I want to be able to actually hear when someone says, "Hey Jenn," if someone ever so desires. And I want to be able to hear my own thoughts, just in case I ever have any.
Dear, dear Campus. I do love the way you are so alive. And so full of coolness. But please forgive me if I decide to remain the tutu-wearing, pale skinned, Twilight disliking student that I am. I mean no offense. I simply mean to soak in all of your culture until my fingers are pruny with it, so that I do not have to actually become your culture.

Thank you ever so,

Jenn

time to be honest with myself

If I'm honest with myself
I'll know you're still with me
Whether you know it or not
Because you still echo
through me

If I'm honest with myself
I'll know all the empty
romance in-between
has filled some cracks
but not sown the seams
because you somehow
still sink in

If I'm honest with myself
I'll admit I still care
more than I admit, more than I dare
And probably more than you do
And that's the worst part
But if I'm honest with myself
I'll face this part of my heart

The part I've tried to run from
Tried to leave behind
Tried to ignore
Tried to make mine

But if I'm honest with myself
I'll know that I can't
get it back
Can't ignore it
can't run from it
Can't keep it

Because I gave it away
So its not really mine
To say if I am okay
Or if I am 'over' it
If I'm honest with myself
I can write the truth
That I don't want to write

If I'm honest with myself
I'm opening myself up
For deeper hurt, maybe
But for stronger truth
Because I cant lie to my heart
No matter what anyone says
Those songs about being strong
And alone
They are lies to my soul
BandAid remedies
cough syrup for a cold
It wont get better
But it might start getting
simpler

Please.

Please.

Please.

Get simpler.

If I'm honest with myself

If.

If.