There's Only Two Words.

Buzzbuzz. I have a text.

He's the first one in my mind. There's this overwhelming desire that it is him, and not someone else, responding to me. I take my phone out swiftly and and my heart dips a little to see that it is in fact, not him yet. I choose not to respond, so that i'll know for sure the next time. So that the elation stays around when i see who the text is from.

It all started with the eyes.... How i remember it anyway. Apparently he said something to me in the hallway after taking a break from dancing. I don't recall that though. I remember talking to a friend of mine and suddenly looking to my left and locking eyes with him. There was really nothing prompting it, except that maybe we were subconsciously guided to where we needed to go. At first i didn't give it any weight. He came over towards the end and danced with the group I was with, and i brushed it off as coincidence that he reappeared, though i later found out that it was definitely on purpose.

Fast forward to a week later, and i'm hanging out with two friends of mine. One of them is on facebook, and suddenly, he's posted something. My other friend said something about how he was at the Annie Wright dance a week ago. Foolishly, i only took mild notice of this. Until later that night, when i was browsing facebook... his name appeared in my head. And something compelled me to add him - even though we barely interacted and i doubted he would remember me. It was as if, despite my foolish actions, something drove me to him.

He accepted.

And the next night, he talked to me.

And suddenly, we were texting.

And two weeks later, we sat together, alone for the first time, in the Old Town Starbucks. I'd never actually been on a date before then. In my head, i'd pictured it being awkward and embarrassing, constantly doubting every word and every action. But it felt so right. And we walked. And talked. And sat, and got cold. And trespassed (technically). I left feeling a surge of energy and happiness that I didn't really understand.

And then there was Babies. And Piper. And Sufjan Stevens (of course). And the four, mixed with a few other (at the time, less important) variables, made an amazing day. And there were hands, held together with excitement, intrigue, and nervousness.

And there was the waterfront, being showered in the late-spring rain. We sat in the car for a couple hours, talking. It always seemed so easy. So freeing. So right. Just to be around him. Silences were few and far between, and conversations would roll into each other with the transition of his heart-warming, infectious laugh. His sentences were filled with such excitement - about the seemingly mundane that carried such life for him. And about the living that carried such freedom and joy. His sentences were filled with the joy of being alive.

And then it was official.

And all summer, it was rare if we weren't seen together more than twice a week. I found that when i was away from him, my life became a little more empty. A little more less purposeful. So i stayed as close as I could.

And then one week, i didn't have to leave him. No less than 100 hours together. And they couldn't have been more perfect. Staying up late into the night while the others slept, just to talk and explore each other's past and present. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but "they" lie. Nearness makes the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the heart ache.

There is one person in this world who can control how i feel - without doing anything, or saying anything - but just by being. He can make me laugh uncontrollably, and sometimes without reason. He can make me smile so much it's painful. He can make me cry with joy at night without doing anything, but simply from knowing that he's mine.

That infectious laugh that always makes Demi say "Tyyler!! Haha!". That shine in his eye when he talks about where he's going in life. That smile that he can give away to anyone for nothing in return. That sheer adorableness that can't even be put into words. That fake sad face and voice he gets when he's trying to convince me to do something. His crazy over-empathizing. His random spanish phrases he uses in the middle of a conversation (This also can be filed with the adorableness).

I'd spent a lot of time wondering about what i would do if i did have someone like him. Would i eventually tell my parents? Or would i keep it from them? Would i tell lots of people? Or only a few? What would we do, where would we go, who would we see?

But, from the very point I sat down in that coffee shop, I suddenly forgot all of those questions. They didn't matter. Let whomever know. Let them say what they want. And who cares what we do, where we go, and who we see? As long as i could do all these things with him, nothing else in the world mattered to me.



Words keep coming and going. They appear in my head as i write them down, or they disappear before they can be captured into a sentence. No matter how hard I might try, a majority of what i want to say escapes me when i go to type it. I'm sure i've missed more than one topic. For instance, his inescapable kindness. How he could never imagine paining another person, and goes out of his way to make someone's day a little better, even if it's just with his perfect smile. And there it is. One of the only words that can truly show you a glimpse of the man. And even then, it's a flawed word. Nothing truly captures him. But there are two words that come close, used either together or separately, to describing him.

Perfect.
Love.


Buzzbuzz. I have a text. This time, I know who it is. And nothing can contain me.

An Honest Mind, A Warm Heart, And a Fucking Filthy Mouth

She was always a bit of a mystery. That girl, the stand partner of one of my best symphony friends. Yeah, the one with the long hair. Getting really into her playing.

I have no idea how she wormed her way into our little group of friends. But she did it. And now i couldn't ever imagine if she hadn't. Of course, the first full and heartfelt conversation I shared with her was about Sufjan. Initially, I thought she was talking about some guy in her class that wrote weird songs about Night Zombies. Until she talked about John Wayne Gacy Jr., the song I was most familiar with then. We survived that muggy, theory-filled week together.

I only saw her once more that summer. It was sort of an odd meeting - my old stand partner and I met up and then visited Piper at the shaved ice stand, where her parents urged her to go and socialize with her friends, and to not worry about them at the stand. Always the worrier. We walked and talked and laughed with the utmost joy. I gave her a cd with some random music i thought she would like, mainly based on Sufjan. It took at least a few months for her to listen to it, i'm sure.

And then, suddenly, it was time for camp. And it was like there had never been almost a year's gap since we last met. Laughing and frantic socializing occurred, when she wasn't too busy being alone in a practice room. Not eating (She never eats). I tried to hide it the very best I could, but i desperately wanted to be around her whenever possible. It was like being in her presence was an automatic rush of happiness, and i felt like we were somehow (foolishly so, since I'd had very little contact with her) connected - as if we knew each other, and could laugh forever. She brought a friend that year too.

Silly Logan.

We kept in a bit better contact after that. Emails and whatnot. But suddenly, I'd found someone. And surprisingly (or maybe not so), he knew this girl! And had known her for years! When the conversation between us began to slow, we'd just mention her, and suddenly we'd have an amazing long conversation. Even when i'm not in her company, simple talk of her can't help but make me happier.

And suddenly, I saw her all the time.

My world began to be filled with "Sufjan!", "Holy Fuck!", and "I'm really, really sorry you guys. Like so, so, so very sorry!". She very much likes to apologize, even for the little things, as if she's worried it may be something that will deeply upset you. Yet, every time she tried to apologize profusely, I can't help from smile, even grin. Because I know how all of her nervousness before a performance, and all of her worry of upsetting someone, comes from the most honest place in her heart. Because she doesn't want to let you down, no matter what. It's not that she really cares what other people think, but rather keeping the things she loves from being hurt, or disappointed.

And every time she curses, I can't stop myself from giggling, or even full out laughing. Because such strong language is a very interesting contrast for such an amazingly sweet girl. And every time she swears, it is So Goddamned Funny! She always knows what to say to make the mood lighter, or the exact time to say some funny remark. She has impeccable comedic timing.

When i'm around her, I can never help but be in the best of moods. She carries with her this amazingly strong aura of warmth and love and honesty. And when she's sad, or under the weather, or worried, sometimes your heart just breaks a little bit. Not because you're disappointed that the happy side isn't there. Not at all. But rather, because it hurts to see such an amazing person be anything less than the happiest she can be.

And then, we embarked on a wild and epic near 100 hour long trip. It was an amazing trip. A perfect trip. I could never, and would never, change a single thing about it.

And there's only two things I can say:
"With that robe, and those glasses, you'd make a perfect psychiatrist"
"Well shit, when my shoes are off, I fly!"

Sorry about the novel. Though it barely conveys half of what I feel.
I love you :)

The Purest Heart I Know

There exists this girl. You'd never guess that she wasn't actually a figment of your imagination if she didn't interact with other people. Everywhere she goes, she brings light. In her golden hair, in her unwavering smile. Sometimes you have to stop and think to yourself

Is this an angel?

We didn't talk much. Just sat as a part of the group, her with her dark, stylish shades, me with my fading blue hair and thin, over worn sweater. Perhaps the only conversation shared was a discussion on Sufjan Stevens. I should've known then who i was dealing with - only the most wonderful people can whole heartedly love Sufjan the way she does. Or love anything in such a way. So purely.

Suddenly, i find myself in a certain Nissan Altima, driving along I-5, and then Highway 101 with this girl. And it's like we'd always been friends. Like we'd already shared our darkest secrets with each other, and come through to the other side, in full acceptance and admiration (at least on my behalf) on who the other was. Aside from sleeping and showering, we were in near constant company for bordering on 100 hours. The best 100 hours of my life, without a doubt. 

You would think that a trip like this would bring out the annoying habits and mannerisms of people you once thought were free of them. But this girl remained as untainted as a newborn child. Always polite, always considerate. She'd apologize for accidentally interrupting, but wouldn't say a thing when someone else interjected. You must think "She has to be annoyed at such an action, but she just hides it well." But I don't think that to be true. I think terrible injustice is the only thing that can truly upset her. And such a trivial thing, well - it is what it is, and what is there to be upset about? 

You cannot know pure until you have met the girl who decides to take a nap on a rock by the ocean. You cannot know love until you sit with this girl in a Borders, reading Postsecret and a Sufjan interview while Celtic music softly plays over the speakers. You cannot laugh truly until you have been with the girl who wrote ALTIMA on a piece of notebook paper as if it came from a horror film, and held it against the car window to show the passing nissan.

By the way, I really hope you don't still feel guilty about me getting you coffee and coving your Pho. It's the least I could do for a friend such as you.

I love you! :)