What is the best color?

Red

Blue

None

Poll Maker

Young at Heart (Or "I've Given This Too Much Thought")

As I sit here listening to Darren Criss singing his version of "Not Alone," I'm pondering the song. Lately I've been thinking a lot about my future. And now that I've graduated from college and have a full-time job, things are starting to sink in. Like the fact that I'm 22 years old. In January, I'll turn 23.

Twenty-three.

I feel old.

And - of course - I'm not really all that old. Literally, I'm the baby out of the girls that I work with (they're all 25 or 26). But the fact is that I feel old. It's funny - when you think about your life as a kid, an age like 22 seems ancient. You sit and roll your eyes and think "Oh, when I'm that old, I'll do X, Y, and Z." Funny how life has a way of causing those things to shift into perspective when you actually reach adulthood.

This may surprise you, but I've never really dreamt of my wedding. Not, I suppose, in the traditional sense that a lot of girls do. Lots of little girls plan their weddings out. They know what color they want their bridesmaids to wear. They know where they want to get married. They know what the ring will look like, what flowers they'll have, what kind of cake they'll eat, and what their first dance will be to. We, as girls, like to jokingly dream of our grooms. Often they're celebrities who we will most likely never even meet in our lifetimes, much less fall in love with and marry.

I never did any of those things. And I suppose that, looking back, it's not super weird that I didn't. The tastes of most little girls change drastically by the time they reach adulthood and the point in time in which they are ready to get engaged. I've just recently thought about things like this, and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm reaching the age where people around me are getting ready to get married. Perhaps.

It's funny though - most days, not having a boyfriend doesn't faze me. I know that I really am young - I'm 22, for goodness' sake! - and that I have my whole life ahead of me to be married. But hearing about engagements and marriages starts to unsettle me when I think about the reality that I don't have anyone. I suppose that I might feel better if I was dating someone and could have the security of knowing that I would get married down the line. I'd have a prospect, at least.

Here's how it feels during bad days: bad.

Is it so hard to believe that I'm not as strong as I let on sometimes? Is it so difficult for me to admit that I actually want to have someone want me? (The answer to those are no and yes, respectively). Here's something that I've discovered lately: I am defeated before I even begin. When, on occasion, I meet someone who I could actually see myself dating because they're sweet and cute and a good guy (this has happened recently), I defeat myself.

Well, what's the point in getting my hopes up anyway?

Crazy, right?

Maybe that's just who I am these days - crazy. I want the best for myself, but maybe I feel like I won't ever get that because it's too good. The idea that there is someone out there perfectly made for me makes me smile and feel warm and wonderful. But maybe I have to start believing that idea. I dismiss it too often, and I think that's my stumbling block. It makes me feel good to think about it, until I look at where I am and think "Well, if that's true, then what am I doing here?"

... I'm going to continue to think about these things; it's inevitable. But I'm hoping that I'll come to the realization of what I already know: that I am young, God's timing for my life is perfect, and someone out there will love me for the rest of their life, and they probably haven't even met me yet.

This One's For You & Me (Or "Who Am I Writing For?")

"Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer."

- Barbara Kingsolver

Barbara Kingsolver wrote my favorite book, The Poisonwood Bible. And therefore, she holds a special place in my heart as an author. She's extremely talented at constructing believable, redeemable, and wonderful characters, and her plots are always so rich in emotion with just the right balance of comedy and drama. And this quote above has now solidified its place as one of my favorites.

Writers write best when they write for themselves. Perhaps that sounds selfish, so let me attempt to qualify that statement throughout this post. I think that the main question a writer has to answer (regardless of if they are writing poetry, prose, screenplay, etc.) is who they are ultimately writing for. Audience is important, but it is not the end-all-be-all factor in writing. Let me explain.

There is a reason that I love to read the work of other people - other authors and poets, specifically. I love that my mind can be engaged in such a way that only they are able to do. Kingsolver, for example, wrote The Bean Trees, which is just a fantastic book about this young woman who goes on a cross-country road trip and finds herself traveling with a little Native American girl. And in all actuality, the book is nothing spectacular - and by spectacular, I mean that it's not a story that is revolutionary or ground-breaking. But it is real. Every emotion, every nuance is true to the story and to Kingsolver herself.

I suppose that it would be absurd to tell you that writing for an audience is futile and unnecessary. I'd be lying to both you and myself if that were the case. But there is a distinct line of difference that separates the realm of  knowing your audience and writing for them. Writing for an audience does not allow your characters the freedom to be who they should be and do what they ought to do. Writing for an audience means that you are writing to cater them, and them alone. It's this trap that writers fall into because we want so desperately for someone to love our work, to call us genuises and to embrace our stories. But at what cost do we do this? Sadly, we usually compromise what is best for the characters and the plot in an attempt to please everyone. And, as cliche as the old saying is, when you try to please everyone, you usually end up pleasing no one.

Truly, as writers, the only thing we have to offer is ourselves - our honesty, our stories, our characters. If we attempt to squish these things into molds that will be "accepted" by an audience, we ultimately lose sight of the art of writing. We lose the point of it all. It is good to know who you are writing for. It is bad when they are the only people who matter. It's beneficial to find a target audience. Obviously, if you are writing a book about a high school heroine who goes on an adventure with her close friends the summer before she graduates, chances are that your target audience will be people of the same age. Of course, there will always be outliers to this theory, but bear with me. So, you write this story about this girl - it is received moderately by that age group. You find yourself on Amazon.com, scrolling through user comments regarding the book, and note that some people think that your character shouldn't have ended up with Guy X and instead should be with Guy Y. They also don't like the character of her mother - they believe she should be more accepting and less demanding of her teenage daughter.

What do you do?

As a writer, here is what I would suggest: do nothing.

I am often tempted to change my writing based on the opinions of others. And if you are in stages where your writing needs to be edited, and your editor suggests that you tighten up your story by making changes then yes - change away. However, when you let your audience dictate your story, that is where you begin to have issues. Because see, while one lone reviewer on Amazon.com felt that the character's mother was too harsh, the audience member on Barnes and Noble's website felt that she was too lax. If you base a character's behavior on anything other than your own gut instinct, and knowing how that character behaves (because writers have significant relationships with their characters, I believe), you will cause that character to become erratic - they will begin to wobble in personality, wants and needs, etc. And then, you will end up pleasing no one - not even that lone reviewer on Amazon.

So I suppose that the moral of our lesson is that we should strive to accept criticisms of our work by our peers. We should write for ourselves - or rather, write for our characters - rather than our audience. It is significantly important to know who our audience is. But we should never cater them, or write for them alone.

Writing, Writing, and Re-Writing (Or "Why I Have Learned the Importance of Revision")

"Writing is not like painting where you add. It is not what you put on the canvas that the reader sees. Writing is more like a sculpture where you remove, you eliminate in order to make the work visible. Even those pages you remove somehow remain."

- Elie Wiesel

I really admire that quote above, because I feel like it does sum up the process of writing so well. And I will admit - editing my own work is not one of my strongest suits. Today, I'm going to choose to discuss revisions, and why I have learned the importance of writing and re-writing your work in order to make it the best that it can possibly be.

When I first started writing poems and short stories, I was in seventh grade. I grew up in a small, rural town in Pennsylvania where we were required to take classes every year like Home Economics, Woodshop, and Keyboard (don't ask me why, because to this day I still do not know). In seventh grade, we were required to take both an English class and a Writing class. Writing was taught by this older, dark-haired and bespectacled woman named Miss DeNicoula. It was in that class that I learned how to appreciate writing, and - even more than that - fall in love with stories.

Looking back on the things that I wrote in sixth and seventh grade, it's no surprise that I find them to be...crap. I'll give myself credit for being creative, to an extent, but was I brilliant?  No. It's amazing though that I think of myself at the current time any differently. Who's to say that I won't look back on my writing ten years from now and think "Wow, this stuff is terrible"? That is why I've decided to implement a kind of rolling revision process.

Before I explain my process to you, I'll explain why I find revision so difficult. In our Advanced Poetry workshop my senior year of college, the ten or so of us in the class discussed what we find to be the most difficult thing about writing poetry. And most of us - unsurprisingly - said that revising poems was the most difficult feat. My reasoning was pretty much the same as my classmates' - when someone asks you to remove or add to your poem, you almost feel attacked, in a way. A poem is usually something quite personal, and we - as poets - like to feel that everything we write is sacred. If we come up with a phrase that we think is particularly brilliant, we pride ourselves in it. And the worst part is that we think that our words are so sacred that no one else should be able to touch them.

I think poetry is the most difficult thing to revise because it is so intimate and because it's (often) so short. In Advanced Fiction workshops, I had less difficulty revising when my peers or professor told me to develop a character more, or cut a certain scene. Though I was deeply attached to those words and phrases, it just felt less...personal, perhaps, than revising poetry does. And maybe the problem is similar to how we view rejection: walls are constructed. We get defensive when people constructively criticize our work, because we think that their comments and suggestions are some personal attack against us.

And yes, there are definitely exceptions to this case: I will not take every piece of advice that professors or peers give to me, namely because some of them are contradictory. One student may tell me that they love a line, while another may tell me to remove it. Obviously, when it comes down to it, revision is in the hands of the writer. You can tell yourself that you have a brilliant piece of work, and that it is perfect. But if it is getting constantly rejected every time you submit, chances are that you need to revise it. Revision is a healthy part of life. My Advanced Poetry workshop professor took years revising some of his poems until they were as good as they could be. And while I can honestly say that I have not taken years to revise one poem, I have taken the time to let the piece ferment, to distance myself from it so that I can look back on it from a clearer perspective.

So what exactly have been my struggles with revision? Personally, I find it easy to revise the work of others, as I am sure most of us would readily agree to. It's easy to read another person's poem and to be constructive with feedback. It's especially easy with strangers in workshops (like online workshops I have taken in the past where you never actually meet the person whose work you are commenting on), but I've found to be a bit more difficult in friends, and perhaps that's because I revert back to taking offense at everything that a friend may find "wrong" with my work. Or perhaps it is just because I like dishing criticism, but not taking it. Either way, that is definitely something that I struggle with.

So what is the actual purpose of revision? Why is it necessary? If a poem "sounds" right the first time that you write it, shouldn't it just stay that way? Here's where I'm in the process of learning - I'm beginning to realize that not everything I do is sacred. Not every word in my poem is sent from God to the ears of mortals. There are things in poems that I have sitting in my portfolio right now that could be better. We, as writers, need to realize that in order to be successful, we must be constantly evolving and growing. If you're stubborn and egotistical (which most of us are), your work will remain the stagnant. Notice that I didn't say "timeless"?

We, as writers, are attached to our work. It becomes an extension of us, somehow - like a child that we nurture. And, just like children, our work changes and grows. The words themselves will remain stale if we choose to not let them breathe, to refuse to edit because we want to keep things the way that they are. The trait of a mature writer is their ability to cut a paragraph or a phrase that they held so close to them in order to make sure that the overall work itself is the best it can possibly be.

And I'm not quite there, but - just like a lot of things in life - editing is all about baby steps.

May-December Romances (Or "Why I Love Jeff/Annie So Much")

I promised during my post about Community that I would write sometime about why I love Jeff Winger and Annie Edison together so much. I think that this is the perfect time to do it. I’m currently re-watching the second season of my favorite television show with a friend in anticipation for the third season. Since I’m the one catching her up – and she’s seeing these episodes for the first time – we watched up to “Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design” this weekend (which is both a fantastic episode in general, especially for Jim Rash, but also a great Jeff/Annie episode). She was thrilled with the episode, and at the end simply said: “I want Jeff and Annie to date.”

While I’m not sure that I want Jeff and Annie to date at this point in the show (they both have a lot of maturing to do), I will say that as far as a romantic potential pairing, these two are my favorite. When Community first aired, the show set us up to believe that Jeff/Britta was the ideal endgame. All of the TV spots for the show reminded us that the only reason Jeff agreed to form a study group was to impress Britta. The idea of Jeff and Britta together at the beginning didn’t repulse me, honestly, but I never saw the complete appeal of it. As separate characters, I love Jeff and Britta. As best friends/partners-in-crime (something along the lines of Doctor/Donna in Doctor Who) in episodes like “Romantic Expressionism,” I love Jeff and Britta. But I just feel like the pair is too similar in order to work romantically (some disagree, and honestly, to each your own. I will never tell someone that they are wrong for wanting a certain couple together). Perhaps it’s the fact that both of them can be hard-headed and stubborn, or perhaps it’s the fact that – quite often – they bring out the worst qualities in one another. They constantly bicker about everything, and that’s cute to an extent because it highlights their similarities (that’s why episodes like “Anthropology 101” are so funny to me).

But the most intriguing pairing of the show for me is still Jeff and Annie. And I think that the episode that really first highlighted their dynamic for me was “Football, Feminism, & You” in season 1 (also, can I say that this is probably my favorite episode title out of the seasons). In the episode, we really get the sense that Jeff and Annie are both very self-serving characters, but both for vastly different reasons. We know that Jeff, from the pilot episode, is a self-involved character who really dismisses the thoughts and feelings of others in order to serve his agenda. And this is something that he gradually learns to deal with (even slightly throughout this episode) and overcome during the coming seasons. Annie is self-involved in the same way that Shirley is self-involved – not because she is callously selfish, but because she wants control over life, and people, and things to make herself feel more secure.

I think that “Football, Feminism, & You” is one of the first times that we get to see how much Jeff and Annie really can butt heads and affect one another. Jeff makes her cry and she makes him feel guilty. It’s the first real interaction between the two that I think we get, and it’s significant because it shows – even early on – that they both have these strong sort of wills, and both have power to really affect one another. The end of the episode is sweet, and is the first instance that we really get to see how these two characters could be good friends. The “milady”/ “milord” is an exchange that I loved then, still love now, and am glad is a running theme in the show.

“Debate 109” is perhaps the episode that everyone who “ships” Jeff/Annie mentions as the turning point. The episode didn’t just show us that Joel and Alison can work together well chemistry-wise (which they can because they’re both wonderful actors), but also really brought the possibility of these two characters in a romantic relationship together. After the debate kiss, there’s this awesome moment from Jeff where he just looks properly stunned as to what just happened. And I think that – until that moment – he kind of thought of Annie as a little sister. But there’s this moment where you look at someone as more than just a friend. And it’s normally insignificant, but there is always a turning point, and I think this was Jeff’s.

“Romantic Expressionism” is another one of my favorite Jeff/Annie early episodes, because I think it’s a great chance to explore the idea of Jeff being jealous, and beginning to kind of thwart Annie’s attempts at relationships by doing so under false pretenses. This is also probably my favorite Jeff/Britta episode because together those two are just hilarious magic. The single greatest moment in this episode to me, is one of the subtlest Jeff/Annie moments – the “look.” I know it sounds campy and cheesy, but the look that they share is brief and sweet because of how much Jeff truly softens and how genuine his expression is.

I think that what I like the most about these two is that while Jeff/Britta is a perfect couple to highlight similarities between the two, Jeff/Annie is a perfect couple to highlight the differences. And that’s not to say that Jeff and Britta are completely similar or that Jeff and Annie are polar opposites (more on that in a minute), but to me, relationships are hinged on how that other person causes you to change and to respond. Annie brings out the heart in Jeff, I think – she makes him care, and feel guilty and he always goes to her because he knows that (see: “Basic Genealogy”). Jeff, on the other hand, brings out the feisty side of Annie – he causes her to loosen up, and to be less politically correct all the time and to instead learn to be more bold.

Which, of course, comes to a head in “Pascal’s Triangle Revisited.” I’ll be honest – I watched Community backwards. Or rather, I knew about the story backwards. My friend Jaime tweeted the night that the finale aired, freaking out over the Jeff/Annie kiss (and she had every right to be because she ships those two). At her urging, I decided to watch the whole first season. I suppose you could argue that I watched the episodes through slight goggles – obviously, I already knew what would happen at the end of the season. Nevertheless, I had fallen in love with all of the characters on the show, and also the Jeff/Annie ship.

Second season was interesting for me to watch, because people (Jeff/Annie shippers in particular) were bristling after “Anthropology 101.” The argument there was that Annie had matured so much by the end of the previous season, so when she suddenly regressed into a love-struck teenager again at the beginning of season 2, that made her appear child-like. Subsequently, they decided that this was a way for the writers and producers to dismiss the idea of Jeff/Annie as silly. Now don’t get me wrong – I would have loved to see Annie be completely mature and composed during that episode. But here’s my argument – that wouldn’t have really been Annie. That would be Annie at the end of season 2 (now a young woman who can hold her own against Jeff, and the entire school in a game of paintball assassins, mind you!) but not at the beginning.

Annie Edison is my favorite character because she’s so completely intelligent and witty, and yet we forget sometimes that she’s struggling to find her place in Greendale and in life. (I would say that she’s not a girl, not yet a woman, but that would incite all kinds of Britney Spears songs). Annie is a wonderful, beautiful character who is – often – more mature than her older study group companions. And maybe that’s why I don’t have a problem with the “age difference” between Jeff and Annie – because a lot of the times, I forget that Annie is only supposed to be 19. She’s living on her own, supporting herself, and driven to get an education and shake away her high school self. She’s mature.

Relationship-wise, it appears that both of the characters care a lot for one another (Dan Harmon, correct me if I am wrong!) but just don’t know how to proceed (or if to proceed). I’d say that they’re at this sort of impasse, where both have to grow before they can actually have a functional relationship. Jeff is still afraid of screwing the group up and himself up. He’s back at Greendale because of the latter, and he doesn’t want to mess up the – arguably – best six relationships he has. That’s why addressing things like in “Asian Population Studies” was so difficult. To him, relationships are always complex. To Annie, it’s just the opposite – to her, relationships have to be black and white. You either want me or you don’t. What’s it gonna be? And in this instance, I think that Annie asked Rich out to prove her point – decisions don’t have to always have drawn out discussions preceding them. Sometimes, if you like someone, you should just go for it (which of course, for her, actually backfired). And in this situation, I’d like to think that neither was completely right. Sure, things are “complicated” for Jeff, but that doesn’t mean he can’t know how he feels about her. And yes, relationships can be simple, but Annie should also realize that sometimes you can’t just be put on the spot about your feelings.

Annie is more of an open book than Jeff, as evidenced by how she does choose to view the world. In “Paradigms of the Human Memory,” she sees the world clearly through a romantic eye, whereas Jeff has always been more cynical. And I don’t think that neither necessarily has to change in order to make a relationship work, because – back to my point earlier – I believe they start to bring out these qualities in one another. Not that Jeff makes Annie more cynical or that Annie causes Jeff to become like a romantic comedy’s leading man, but that they appreciate those aspects of one another.

I think that one of my absolute favorite episodes of the season for Jeff and Annie was “Intro to Political Science.” And the reason that I like this episode so much is that we really get the sense that these two characters care a lot about how the other perceives them. Annie doesn’t want to be seen as a “kid” or a little girl. And I don’t think that it’s with condescension that Jeff has called her a kid previously (and in this episode too). I think that it’s Jeff’s way of trying to distance himself from her. It makes him feel better, perhaps, to think of himself as an adult, and her as a child – in “English as a Second Language,” he admits that the reason he treated her like a child was because she had feelings. Perhaps that’s why Jeff continues to distance himself from her by referring to her as “kid” – maybe he just can’t come to terms with the fact that she is both an adult and has feelings. Or else I’m reading too much into this. Regardless, I loved this episode because we got to see Jeff and Annie compete against one another and it proved that – once again – Annie is capable of holding her own against Jeff. The conversation in the supply closet was a nice touch as well. Jeff could have easily dismissed Annie’s admission that she cares about what he thinks of her and said something completely Jeff Winger to get himself away from admitting anything involving caring. But he didn’t – he actually reciprocated. I think that is what we’d like to call character progress, folks.

And yes, I just spent the past three or so pages (roughly) discussing why I love two fictional characters together on a fictional television show. And Dan Harmon, or anyone else for that matter, if you have read even half of this, I congratulate you.

I will once again reiterate this fact: Community is a brilliant show, full of brilliant characters and intriguing pairings, Jeff and Annie included.

Bad News Bears (Or "A Case of the Mondays")

Everyone is entitled to have a case of the Mondays at some point, right?

Well today is mine.

Actually, last night truly began my fantastic start to this morning. You know how there is a moment where you lie awake in bed, wishing that you could fall asleep because you’re consciously aware of how early you have to get up the following morning? I’m always amazed by how this seems to happen every Sunday night to me (or at least it seems like it does), and how – no matter how much I try to turn my brain off and relax – I never can fall asleep at a reasonable hour.

So I stayed awake, numbing my mind with the newest episode of “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” and the last half of the movie “Bride Wars,” in sincere hope that those things would help lull me off to sleep. I had no such luck.

And when I settled myself onto my pillow, all I wanted to do was cry myself to sleep and have someone hold me. And yes, maybe that sounds pathetic (and maybe it is), but I didn’t care. I wanted arms to hold me and rock me and sing me lullabies.

I went to summer camp when I was in middle school, up in Pennsylvania. It was this awesome camp called Victory Valley (I actually just had to Google this place because I have so many memories of it). One night, we literally camped out. For the entire week we stayed in these cute little cabins, but on this particular night, our counselors took us out into these huge pavilion like structures that were high off the ground and we all camped out together (all of the girls, at least).

And I so clearly remember all of us clutching onto our glowsticks, sprawled out on our sleeping bags just listening to the sounds of the woods. Most of us couldn’t fall asleep, of course – for one thing, we were middle-school children who were wired to stay awake for as long as possible. But I think we were all just a little bit scared – scared that we were open and vulnerable, and if we all fell asleep then a bear could come and attack us (or worse: that the boys’ cabins could come and throw water balloons at us in our sleep).

So one of the counselors sang to us, very quietly, until we all lulled off to sleep. I can’t remember what she sang, but all I know is that it was comforting – falling asleep to the sound of someone’s voice, someone who was going to watch over you.

Maybe that’s why I associate singing someone to sleep with security and safety and peace. Who knows. All I know is that last night I wanted someone there to sing me something sweet.

And so far, this blog post has been less than philosophical. I apologize for that, because I really do want to write something substantial and poignant for people to read (or, because no one probably reads this anyway, for myself to go back and read when I need to).

But all of us have days where we would rather stay in bed, under our covers than face the world. And today is one of those days for me. I’m tired, stuff at work is broken that needs to be fixed because we have a deadline tomorrow, and I’m just mentally unprepared for it all. And I really need to try to be positive – to let others see that what gets them down won’t take me down as well. That I’m stronger than that. Like what Isaac talked about yesterday afternoon in his message: there is hope because my hope is not determined by things on this earth.

Days like today, that’s easier said than done.

But here’s to trusting. Here’s to believing that there are plans out there that I am only a tiny part of. Here’s to knowing that today is just one day, and that I can get through it. Here’s to not putting so much pressure on myself to be perfect, or to look perfect, or to act perfect all of the time. To just being the best possible version of myself that I can be and letting God fill in the gaps.

Here’s to a case of the Mondays.

At least there will always be Tuesday.

Letters (Or "Here's What I'll Never Say to You")

"We lay aside letters never to read them again, and at last we destroy them out of discretion, and so disappears the most beautiful, the most immediate breath of life, irrecoverable for ourselves and for others." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

 So instead of writing a profound blog post today, I thought that I would write some letters. Letter-writing is cathartic, but perhaps it is most cathartic when you write letters to people that you never actually send. It gives you that emotional release without any of the repercussions. And so - today - I give you a few letters addressed to various individuals that I would never actually send:

I.

It seems appropriate to write this first letter to you. You were, after all, a huge part of my life for a few years. And now that I am older, and a little bit wiser, I can come to say - thank you. The fact that you completely broke my heart and my trust has made me the person that I am today. And for a while, I was really angry and bitter with you, and especially over what you did. I felt like you took my trust and - having lied to me for years - snapped it in half. But looking back, you actually made me stronger. You made me into someone who realized that forgiveness is an extremely powerful thing, and not always an easy one. I used to think that I was a very forgiving person - that I was the sort who would never grow bitter or hold grudges. But after what you did to me, I found my heart hardened. And perhaps a little bit of me will always feel that way, but I remember hearing that forgiveness is a process. You have to make a conscious effort to forgive that individual every time they pop into your mind. So I wanted to let you know that I forgive you. Despite the fact that you hurt me, I don't wish any ill thing to happen to you. I wish you well, and hope that you are. And, should by some chance we ever meet again in this life, I would smile and nod in your direction. And just know that's a huge step from where I came from a few years ago.

II.

Most of all, I want you to be happy. And I want your life to be happy. And it pains me to know that you're always in pain - it seems that if it's not physical, it's emotional, or spiritual. I wish I could understand what you're going through - how depression makes you feel, and how your joints ache at such a young age. I wish I could just make that all go away for you. I wish we could go to London together and study abroad and shop at little shops and eat and drink in pubs, and take train rides and write poems in Bryant Park. Honestly, if there's anyone in my life that I wish I could do all those things with, it'd be you. And it's funny because we didn't even really start out as close friends until later in life. But I think that it's amazing how close we've grown. And I know you're struggling with what to do with the rest of your life, but I know God has a plan and He'll work things out. And I'm always here for you.

III.

I was in love with you once and I can safely say that I am happy that you're happy. It's amazing to feel that, really. I'm actually kind of glad that you never felt the same way. In the words of Elizabeth Swan: "It would have never worked between us." True words.

IV.

It's been almost ten years, and you're still the only person who can make me laugh as hard as you do. I love being around you, and I love that you are always there for me. And I love that we can be silly and crazy and have random adventures. I wish your home life was better for you, or that you could get rid of the dysfunctionality of it somehow. I wish I could help. But I love you, profusely. And you're my best friend. And you always will be. And someday, you'll get to be in your first American wedding, and I'll get to be in my first (and probably only) Indian one. :)

V.

I just don't even know what to say to you. I'm not sure that I even know who you are anymore. I think that I did, maybe. Or maybe I just convinced myself of who you were - maybe I just constructed a model you in my mind, and saw you through that lens. The thing about you is that you're unpredictable. So maybe someday we can be friends, who knows. But as for right now, I'm still on my guard - my walls are up, because I don't know what you want or who you really are. And that scares me.

VI.

How did we all fall apart like this? Sweetie, you're so controlling. You can't make people do things they don't want to do. You can't shut people out because they disagree with you. And you sure as heck cannot try and glue something together that has already fallen apart. Because it's the truth - whether you want to admit it or not. We all fell apart. We're not the same people that we were in high school, and thank God for that. We've grown up, and moved on. And though we all love each other in the kind of way that makes us nostalgic, we'll never actually be those people again. And it kind of is sad to me that you want us to hold on so that you can feel better. I understand why you want control - your life hasn't exactly been sunshine and rainbows the past few years. And I would never want to be in your shoes. You've gone through some rough things, and you know that you had (and still have) our support. But don't resort to high school - don't threaten us, don't cause petty arguments. I love you, of course, but sometimes you make me frustrated. Just an FYI.

VII.

Is it weird that sometimes I wonder what would have happened if - three years ago - I had ended up with you instead of him? I hope you're doing well. Because you're actually someone who I really really liked, and who kind of miss to this day. And who I regret deleting off of my Facebook friends.

VIII.

It's kind of weird that you're dating her. And not just because I - along with every other single girl I know - had a crush on you. It's just...weird. But I hope you're happy. Because I really do enjoy seeing you happy.

VIV.

I'm trying to think of why we aren't friends anymore, and I don't know the answer. You and I used to be pretty close - we used to live right down the hall from one another, for goodness' sake. But we moved back home, our lives changed, and we started up new colleges. And I thought that we would still stay close - you are such a strong, wonderful woman of God. But lately... I feel like there's this huge distance between us, even though we live 15 minutes or so apart. It's funny, because we'll say that "we should really get coffee sometime." But we never do. Why is that? Has our friendship become just that shallow?

X.

This is a letter to all of you, and it's no secret how much I love you guys. When I transferred, I never thought that I would find a group that I connected with as much as I did. We're sisters, but we've become a family. And I want to cry thinking about how much I miss seeing each and every one of you from week to week. But we're forever bonded, so I guess that's okay.