Via Why I’m Like: Or Broken Brains, Broken Hearts & Other Reasons Why
Things you should know: My dresser is overstuffed with clothes that aren’t folded properly. The suitcase I never unpacked from Philly is now the suitcase I didn’t unpack from Pittsburgh and it’s sitting in the middle of the floor in my bedroom. I’m too hard on myself. My cell phone doesn’t ring as often as I would like it too. I’m vain and insecure all at once. I feel plain and boring sometimes but I can catch myself in the mirror and marvel at how perfect my mouth is; how necessary my eyes are. I’m still waiting for someone to tell me that they’ve changed their mind and maybe I should go to law school and stop this writing thing. I’m afraid of not being good enough. But I also think I’m a better writer than 95% of the people who call themselves that. I’m arrogant like that. I like to be surrounded by people and need to be alone, sometimes at the same time. I wonder often if I’m a very good friend. I sometimes can’t say what I mean or want. It’s easier to write things down. I’m shy and pretend that I’m not. I’m pretty sure that all these things that I felt and hurt for haven’t really been love—only practice. I forget things easily.…And my grammar is terrible. I don’t know where anything is supposed to go. I put commas where I want them and colons where I think they will look nice and dashes when my brain stops in the middle of a sentence. And a whole bunch of other stuff.
One day I should write down the story of how it is I came to know Bassey. Not that it’s incredibly epic or anything, really just a moment on both sides, but it still amazes me that I get to know her. She is so incredible and strong and smart and funny and inspiring and honest and necessary. She is the older sister I never had and always wanted. I can only hope to be in some way like her as I grow up.