sweet sorrow

I wish I could say that at any of the millions of junctures I was able to, I did the right thing. The fact of the matter is, I kept banging my head against a wall mentally beating the shit out of myself trying to bedevil a little girl into doing something she didn't want to do. I wish I could say that this was my decision, that I got tired of doing the wrong thing and interfering with your happiness. Obviously that's not what happened. I'd love it if I could just re-summon the anger I felt last week but really all I feel is, empty. Like for the past couple months I've been fighting to stay afloat in this turbulent fucking storm and today I just gave up. I've never done heroin or any other ridiculously addictive drug, but I imagine this is the appeal. It's almost funny how predictable it was, fucking stupendous highs followed immediately by subterranean lows. My favorite example. You may recall the rapture that occurred on May 21, the riders of the apocalypse came down and all of humanity was judged, It was a pretty big deal. We ended up kissing that night and the next day we worked almost the same shift together. That was one of the best shifts of my life and everybody knew it but obviously no one knew why. If I'm not mistaken by the end of that day we had resolved to never talk to one another again. I think we ended up going on a bike ride the next day. I missed your color commentary at Back to the Future night but more importantly I missed you. The cupcakes made up for it though, my brother ended up drinking a couple by the end of the night.

Out of all the crazy shit that came out of your mouth last night something has kind of stuck. I can't actually vocalize a lot of the things I text or say here. There are a couple reasons for this. One, most of it only occurs to me after I have time to think about it. Two, my brain and mouth just really don't get along all that well. I'm worried that this is actually a problem that I'll have to deal with but at the same time I think it may just be specific to you and our incredible awkwardness.

I really enjoyed talking to you, just in general I mean. Things would occur to me every now and then that I wanted to say to you or ask you about, and I'd write them down so I wouldn't forget. Even though you are no longer a peetnik, I enjoyed boring you with my mundane work stories. On Saturday the plug for the coffee urns exploded and everyone was freaking out, but somehow I was still half drunk from the night before and found everything hilarious. This was the same day Janet had to call corporate to make sure the Sencha wasn't radioactive.

It pains me greatly that I was never able to hear you gracefully pluck Tereré, or any of the others for that matter. I also failed you in your quest to master the manual transmission. For this I am sorry and must soon commit ritualistic suicide to avoid shaming my family.

This will be my final heartfelt/embarrassing paragraph. I'll miss your mischievous smile when you squint your eyes, your chipmunk cheeks, and yeah your big dumb brown eyes. Hopefully next time we run into each other you'll have forgotten this and how totally insane I am. I just realized that I've written this whole thing directly to you and have no idea if it will be read or not. Regardless I needed it out of my head. I made Affogatos for everyone in your honor today, voy a extrañarte you fucking coffee nerd you.

P.P.S Please don't laugh at me.