things you won’t read 2k14


I owe you a massive apology, because I’m an arrogant fuck who can’t be bothered to own up to her mistakes until she’s too far into them, to even turn back.

I’m really sorry for being as much of a dick as I was.

I’m sorry because I overestimated the type of person you are, were, and had the capacity to be; which isn’t to diminish you as a person, but rather to hold it against myself that I placed such unreal expectations on another person. You are kind and caring, but you are also childish and immature. But in fairness, so am I.

We’ve brought out the worst in each other; we highlight each other’s non confrontational natures, we dodge from speaking our minds in both positive and negative respects, we fear being vulnerable, we fear making others vulnerable. We fear the concept of relationships because they open up one person entirely to another, which isn’t a thing either of us are necessarily ready to do. We are reserved, we are cautious to move outside our comfort zone.

I know I care about you, and I know you care about me, and this I know because you’ve been a wonderful friend for years. Because you are a terrific listener and know how to respond perfectly, how to bite back with sass exactly when you know I’ll need it, how to remind me that in the end, things will be fine.

You’ve always told me that everything will be fine, and it’s your mantra that got me through so much of these four years away from home. And in that same way, I hope you soon realize that just as you told me, things will be fine in the end.

I miss being friends with you because at times like these, when our entire social circle seemed to be corroding (yet again), we’d always find this weird comfort in complaining to each other like two grumpy old men, about our lives and our friends and the people around us. But then, it was always more of me talking, more of you listening, sometimes agreeing, sometimes disagreeing, sometimes questioning my thinking, but always hearing me out until the end.

That’s always been our dynamic; you’d listen, I’d talk, and maybe that’s why we’re no good for each other. You select your words with caution and restraint, speak them calmly and clearly, but leave most of your thoughts and feelings and opinions unsaid. You are very, very, very restrained. I often wonder if my garrulous nature, my excess of words and vocalized drama, the whining sing-song of complaints and distastes that always spill from my mouth and into your ears, grow to irk you. But you always continue to listen, amused, entertained, drawing up solutions in the brilliantly crafty way you always go about things.

And I wonder now, as we sit in our fully restrained states– two spheres of a Venn diagram, refusing to interact and overlap, if you are in fact completely fed up with me, and if my words finally did their nightmarish work on your tolerance. At one point, we were communicating via a texting-like application where our words and images would last two, three, maybe five seconds. And it occurred to me, that temporariness was the core of our dysfunction and that we feared holding actual conversations via text, via phone, via Facebook, because of their permanence and that their objective presence within our vision for any more than those ticking seconds, would establish a more solidified ground of permanence in the thing that we were somehow, strangely, becoming.

We were communicating via that temporary medium, and at one point, I decided to let you know that I might maybe, possibly have feelings for you. Like-like you, since we’re childish fuckers who can’t express things in the way that twenty one-year-olds should. I stared blankly at the white triangle with the pink lining, with your name next to it. Ten seconds went by. Twenty. Thirty. You responded with a meager “I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

Your inconsistencies infuriate me, because you are immature and don’t know how to manage your own feelings. It baffles me, how you can care so much about friends, and be so supportive towards others, yet fall so short in the realm of caring about another person in a more-than-friends context. I think you’re scared of feelings. I’m not saying that in an egotistical you know you like me kind of way. I think you’re scared of the responsibility that another person liking you bears. I think this is why you’ve never actually sustained a lasting relationship with a girl, without her breaking it off with you out of frustration.

Most of all, though, I hope you grow up soon. I know you well enough to know that you are, in fact, a wonderfully genuine person. However you are a remarkably uncertain person, and your uncertainty lies in your lack of faith in your own abilities. I want you to realize how brilliant you are, how caring and genuine you are, how witty and hilarious you are. I want you to love the fact that you have such a fine eye for the problems with our society, and that you have such an ability to be a positive force in changing that.

You’re not smart by nature, but you’re fucking hard-working, and it’s so goddamn admirable. Sometimes, I think the fact that certain things don’t come as easily to you as to others (or that you perceive it this way) makes you lose faith in yourself. Likewise, I think you lack confidence with girls, and when a girl actually displays genuine interest, you run in the other direction because you are baffled that this is happening, you are unsure of what to do, you are afraid to mess it up, and so you mess it up.

The nauseating cliche goes something along the lines that loving yourself is most important, and I want you to realize what a wonderful friend and person you can be. I’m not trying to say “the reason you don’t like me is because you don’t like you” because for all I know, you don’t like me, and that’s fine too. But I think your larger problems of communication regarding clarifying this, are very very much a personal issue, and something I want you to resolve. You’ve turned lots of girls off with it. You’ve turned a girl who’s been your friend for years, off from that.

As a friend, if there’s any of our friendship even still left, I want you to learn to appreciate yourself, and be the best person you can be. I hope we can stay friends. And if you get you worked out, and it turns out that maybe all those flirty messages were with some sort of intent, I hope we can maybe be more-than-friends.

To say “you’re a piece of work” is offensive, but I think that if you get your inner confidence and faith-in-yourself together, you’ll also figure out what you want to do after college. Please please please get yourself worked out. You’re brilliant and kind and adorable, and as a friend, I just want to see you be the best person you can be.

Cool? Cool.



Feelings best translate to the nightmarish segment of a childhood funhouse, the tunnel right before the end, it revolves in an ongoing circular motion, and through it you scamper like a gerbil in a wheel, attempting to remain upright on your two frantically blinking light-up sneakers, but the omnipotent presence of gravity trumps all. There’s an immense O-shaped beam of sunlight pouring through and perhaps your mother or friends or somebody is flinging a wrist left and right, casting a frivolous beam of laughter up at the skies, oh she’s so precious, look she can’t walk right!

Feelings best translate to the contrast between emotions upon placing Piketty’s Capital in my shopping cart on Amazon, and struggling past the first ten pages. Tackling Capital seemed like a remarkable idea until I realized my lack of time, patience, and intelligence. Feelings are my useless economics degree, and you are a 600-page Amazon bestseller. But you could be any book, really; you could be Harry Potter and I’d be both the robe-clad girl in line for Barnes and Noble at midnight, and the bible-thumper who thought Voldemort to be satan. You’d be Twilight and I, both the twihard and the English professor raising my nose at lowbrow literature; the soccer mom flitting through Fifty Shades, and the Jezebel columnist condemning its misogynistic nature. Through and through, you are the book, demand exceeding supply and comfortably nestled at the top of all lists.

Feelings are necessary and you are the sufficient; if it were diagrammed, it would parallel a logical reasoning argument like the ones on the LSAT. If I went to class, then I got out of bed. Getting out of bed is necessary, going to class is sufficient. If I think of you often, sometimes with no clothes on, sometimes with your lips on mine, sometimes with your arm around me or just even doing none of those things and talking, smiling, laughing, showing each other the things we know the other would like, and then maybe kissing on the lips and each other’s necks and quietly giggling about how nobody else would ever guess that this thing could be ours, then I have feelings. Feelings are necessary, you are sufficient, and perhaps one day those dizzying feelings will dissipate at last. After all, you are the latter half of an admissions test diagram, you are the wheel that challenged me against gravity, you are the geekonomics summer must-read I couldn’t handle. Because some things that once felt so radically innate, like asking to spend time with you, suddenly place me at odds with the bare bones of nature’s power itself, as though gravity is gracelessly rolling me off my rubber soles.

I don’t know how I feel about you, but it goes something like this.


I sort of like you. It’s not a certain thing; if anything, it’s less certain by the day. But I enjoy you and I like you and I care about you, and you have a nice face, and sometimes when it crinkles into a smile, it does funny things to whatever’s happening inside my chest. You’re remarkably supportive, a terrific friend, but you are also very flawed and very human. I like you, because you see things in a wholly way, you’re not too short-sighted most of the time, you’re very rational and calculated and understand the broader impacts of your actions.

You do not see the broader impacts of your lack of action. You are awkward and uncomfortable in certain situations, and restrained at times. You don’t express yourself well, you keep your thoughts and feelings under ten-thousand layers, let them bubble up for all the wrong reasons.

When you get past this, you are wonderful. But as long as this is present, it makes understanding and gauging what you want, and how you feel towards me, the most frustrating challenge of all.

You are confusing, I am confusing, we don’t know what we want, please let’s make out again and figure it out. You’re a terrible communicator. You are a fascinating human being, you are a contradicting human being, you are wonderful and terrible at once.

does it ever occur to you that he’s been dropping hints all along and month after month after month, they’ve all gone over your head?

Things you deserve: Mid 2014- Mid 2015 edition note-to-self.

  1. A greater sense of self, because you are fabulous. You are a humorous writer, and a poignant one when needed. You are outspoken and clever, genuine and caring, well-liked and well-respected. None of these skills shine through without your beaming confidence, rooted in your well-esteemed sense of self. Repeat after me: You are wonderful, you are capable, you are. 
  2. A greater adherence to the mandatory routines and commitments of life. Change is coming; law school applications are around the corner, LSAT II is in a little more than two months. There isn’t much time, and there’s a whole lot this year is depending upon. Your grades are crucial. Your exam performance is crucial. This past year was full of sadness, but sadness that begot personal growth (among a sea of losses). This year is for overcoming, and leaping above and beyond what you believed yourself capable of. You are capable of more than you think. Don’t sell yourself short; there are great days ahead, and they are well worth keeping a head up for. 
  3. A more brash degree of honesty with yourself. Self-deciet has done little good for you. You are lazy, you wallow in self-pity, you build monstrous nightmares from meager thoughts. You are adept at distracting yourself with sadness, preoccupying yourself with anxiety. You are flawed, and to address these flaws and mitigate them, you must address them, and embrace change. 
  4. A greater value for free time. Being busy isn’t “fun,” it isn’t “hip,” it isn’t desirable. It is great to be occupied, but busy is a construct. Leave time to yourself, time to run, time to read, time to walk and think and breathe. 
  5. Set cool goals for yourself. By September, you’ll be able to run 3 miles again. You’ll be ready to kill the LSAT, you’ll have a draft of your personal statements scribbled into Microsoft Word. You’ll have a great time reuniting with your friends, you’ll laugh, you’ll drink, you’ll love. Come October, you will be up to 5 miles. You will go to cardio kickboxing twice a week, run five days a week, do yoga once a week to unwind. Midterms will be around the corner, you will kill those. You will ace all of your midterms because you can, because you’re worth it. You will do great things for your residents, and they will value your support to them. You will go to Washington DC to visit your brother, and attend a MUN conference. You will try for an award. Perhaps, the award will be yours, perhaps not, but what matters is that you gave it your all. November, you’ll be up to 7 miles. And in these seven miles, that you will run five days a week, you will begin to feel inner peace with yourself and know that never, in your past, were you able to run seven miles. You will finalize your early decision application to the law school of your choice. At the moment, it’s GWU Law. Perhaps that will change by November. You will start fine-tuning your personal statement, diversity statement, adversity statement, and tell the school of your dreams why you, of all people, belong in the class of 2018. You will work hard, and it will be worth every effort. You will play hard, because it’s the last year you will be as closely surrounded by these incredible people. December, touch upon the 9 mile mark. Finish finals strong. Return home, enjoy the family. Relish in time spent with the people who love you unconditionally. Applaud yourself on surviving the semester. High-five yourself on getting the highest GPA you’ve ever earned in college. Remind yourself, you’re capable of more than you think. Map out Spring Semester in reslife. Scope out study abroad programs for the summer; you deserve this. Keep running, keep kickboxing, keep your head up, keep smiling, keep faith in yourself, you’ve made it this far, and can make it to the end. January, round the corner of 11 miles. Damn, you’re so close! Return to college, ease your way back into your final semester. Live it vividly, laugh often. Kiss boys you’d thought you’d never kiss before, go home with them because your body is wonderful and deserves to be loved. Start up your classes, enjoy the free time. February, the home stretch; hit 13 miles, hit submit on the sea of law school applications; the waiting game begins. Find calamity in this waiting game, know that you’re capable of good things because you can run 13 miles– a feat you once found impossible. You studied economics– another formerly impossible feat. You are miraculous, fighting, relentless, and will earn it all. Find calamity in laughter, in music, in love, in exercise, in friendships, in activity, in learning, and revel in it all. Keep running 13 miles– try 14 if you like, in March, but know that you’ve done great. In March, try to improve your time, run faster. Keep your head in the books, keep running, kicking, punching. Enjoy college, thrive in it’s ephemeral, yet vivacious nature. April, results come out. May, commit to a school, graduate. June, run 13.1 miles. July, go abroad. August, pack your bags for law school. 
  6. Twelve months. You can do this.

The most powerful feeling of all being, not that you are too good for him, nor that he be too good for you, but rather that you are both two separate entities with separate visions, perspectives, and futures, that although align in some ways, fail to in the most important ways of all. 

To fully realize and understand that is the fullest feeling of letting go.