Because it is time.

lovememily.blogspot.com

Nicholas Sparks is a son of a bitch.

He's a bad writer and a liar.
He just sucks as a person in general, I think.

But I feel like we could be good friends right now. 
I have writers' block and he hasn't come up with an original idea in his entire career as an author, so we'd have a lot to talk about. We'd sit in a Starbucks somewhere in Arizona. I'd drink something sugary and he'd get coffee black, just to prove that he's a man. We'd make idle chit chat about how it feels to think the same things as everyone else. How we didn't want to grow up. How life is a journey.

Blah blah blah bl blah.

He'd lean across the table, slide his hand onto mine and whisper a cheesy line from one of his best-sellers into my ear. And at this point, I'm afraid I might just go home with him and drink fancy wine, instead of kicking his shin and walking out of that coffee shop. I'd listen to him brag about how he writes great love stories. Smile. Nod. Twirl Hair.

Just me and Nick in a decked out condo. Waiting to be seduced by something original.

-M

My boyfriend is gone and my ovaries hurt

Life is no fun.

I don't know why I am blogging because I have absolutely nothing poetic to say. so.

A LIST OF PEOPLE I AM GOING TO HANG OUT WITH WHILE NATHAN IS GONE AND WHY I AM EXCITED TO DO SO:

RACHEL/LINDSEY: They don't even get to be two people. Because you can't have one without the other. Just like love and marriage, according to Frank Sinatra. MY BESTEST FRIEND.

KAITLYN: Because we can talk about celebrities we would like to be*. And people who we would trade wardrobes with and also God.

ROBERT PATTINSON: Because Twilight.

AVERY: I miss her wit and sarcasm and hair. And I'm not sure why we never call each other these days.

KATIE: She is the only decent human being left at dear old Lone Peak High. And I'm a little bit in love with her...especially when she puts her short hair into cute little braids.

ORSON SCOTT CARD: Ender's Game is actually my life.

DIESEL: Cats. He's cuter and cuddlier than all of you.

ETHAN: Yesterday I asked him if he would be my new boyfriend and he said yes. Today he told me that he loved being my boyfriend but it wasn't going to work out because it was against the law to marry someone older than you. Heart just broke.

MY GYNECOLOGIST: Something is seriously wrong with my ovaries, guys.

*1. Katie Perry
  2. Emma Stone
  3. Emma Watson
  4. Mary Kate
  5. Grimes

sorry about this blog post.

-m

The Day the World Turned Blue

Part One: Fluorescent Lighting
My obsession with the Trailer Teachers continues. Sitting in Mr. Flood's class and wondering just how miserable he is, and how happy he pretends to be. Trying to convince myself that I won't end up with a beer belly, teaching kids who couldn't care less about being financially literate. 
I am not Keith Flood. I will not be Keith Flood.
Laughing at Mr. Vawdrey's geekiest jokes. 
Reminding myself that graduation is coming. 

I created my utopia today and it was just Matthew Gray Gubler in space.

The walls of this school won't crumble when I'm gone. 
The teachers won't quit in my honor.
But maybe someone will remember me once in a while. 
I'm hidden in the new design of the school newspaper and my name is probably still scratched into a desk somewhere. 
Maybe they'll say "One time there was a senior in my sophomore PE class and she knocked someone down in dodge ball, then through a ball at their face." Or maybe Mr. Nelson will use me as an example.
They'll remember the girl who was afraid of football.

I'd be fine with that.

But I'd also be fine with being forgotten.
Left in the dust. Shaking and swearing for a few minutes. Pulling myself together.
Walking to the airport and boarding a plane to New York City. Because Addy and I were supposed to go together. And I never made our lunch date.

Part Two: Dim Lighting

Fictitious Book Depression.
I'd rather be reading. Traveling to a world where things move at the speed of light, and people use the word "Ho" to say hello sometimes. And when I'm forced to function like a normal human being in normal human life I feel like screaming. For Libo and for Miro and for Bean. 

Teach me how to breathe again. My lungs are turning black as my skin gets paler.

But pale skin and black hair look nice with lipstick, so I let my lungs turn to ash.

Part Three: Red Lighting

You're a vandal, you are. You'd be a nice addition to the Breakfast Club and I envy you for that.

At least I get to love you. Love you in every way there is to be loved.
In the secret way. Telling each other how damn scared we are. How no one can ever know how much we cry.
In the cliché way. Cuddling and winking and calling each other babe. 
In our way. Knowing that the end of this love is impossible, but it will probably happen anyway.
In time. 
Dying for each other. 

In our way. Escaping everything and hiding away for hours.
Time stops in our room. Just us and a red light bulb, showing the world that for once the rules don't apply. We are invincible. 

Loving you is living. 
And when we walked outside the whole world had turned blue.
-m

"Clean up on isle 3"

It seems like the loud speakers aren't working. Because no one is coming with a mop. And we all just keep slipping.

"Clean up on isle 3"

I'm getting torn in half, here. And no one dares come sew me up. 
My bite is a hell of a lot worse than my bark. 

"Clean up on isle 3?"

At this point I'm all out of words. The blood has drained from my fingertips and all they do these days is twitch.
 Really I just want to talk about Ender's Game and my PE class. Because they matter for some reason.

 I'm a little bit afraid of my inability to stop thinking about the trailer teachers, and how pathetic their lives are. Sitting in semi-dark rooms and laughing at semi-funny jokes. Presenting power point presentations that they don't care about and quietly bad mouthing their wives. I think they're lying whenever they smile.

"Clean up...isle 3"

I never meant to make my mom cry like that. I never meant to hurt anyone. God, forgive me. I don't know how I got here. And even if I wanted to leave I can't. 

I'll be fine. Just don't leave me alone in the flourescent lights. They make my skin look green, and no one else will love me but you.

Welcome home, to isle 3.
Take your shoes off at the door, please.

-M

Publishing a book where every copy has a different ending

ONLY THE ELITE END IN POETRY

A part of me wants to ruin the endings of all the books for you, and I won't even bother with spoiler alerts.
Alice does drugs.
The blind get their sight back.
Ed Kennedy is the message.
Harry's a horcrux.
Billy Pilgrim has PTSD.
Wendy goes back to London.

And everyone dies.

They're bitter and they're rabid.
Sometimes wishing they could change, but knowing it's impossible, the endings come together in a bar.
Romances dancing and tragedies drinking hard liquor.
The bitter sweet in-betweens order food occasionally.
The whores in the back room getting used. True love and funerals and plot twists.
Pretending they don't know what comes next.

Because it doesn't matter if it comes as a surprise.
The end was there from the beginning.
Waiting for you.
Pacing back and forth and laughing with all the other endings.
 

"She doesn't see me coming," they say.
"They never do." 
-M

and you're to blame

People move on and start careers and I'm just gonna keep on loving you.

Loving you gave me a C in Foods and loving you got me grounded.

And we keep trying to tell them we know what love is.
 
It was the morning you did the dishes.
That's when I knew that I love you.
I went on rambling about grades, responsibility, and giving people rides to the airport.
And you simply went down stairs and started the dishes.

They told us not to climb on the rocks in the first place.

Because now we're falling down the cliffs, hand in hand. My hair blowing in the wind and your hip bones catching it.
And the thrill in  our stomachs just keeps taking us higher. Higher and higher just to drop us again, because the Fates are dying to see how long it takes for us to let go of each other.

Don't you dare let go of my hand, love. I can't afford to hit the rocks.

And then you look me in the eye and tell me you'll never love anyone else the way you love me.


Damn you.
I'm becoming the girls in Pop Songs and Disney Channel Original Movies.

Because I'm starting to think that every time our lips touch we become a little more invincible.

-M