You won't be reading this.

Dear Chief,

            The minute I woke up this morning, I remembered that you were already married.

            My biggest fear used to be that I would run into her and she wouldn't know my name, not even as an old friend of yours. That I would be lost in your history somewhere. I wish I could believe that she absolutely doesn't appreciate what she has when she's with you, but of course she does.

            I hope you feel the same peace while loving her as I felt while I was loving you. 

            I'm so tired that I can't be angry about it anymore, and the good memories are starting to stand out again. Like when we kissed for the first time and just stared at each other in shock. Or when I told you I loved you and you smiled and gave me one of those bear hugs even though we were screaming and swearing at each other moments before. Or the time you held my hand when this song started playing and I couldn't stop crying because you had already ended things between us a month before, but I still wanted to marry you.

            None of that really matters much though; you won't be reading this.

            It's been a year, so I want to assume that my still loving you falls under the category of "old habits die hard." I can't wait until it's over, because when I no doubt see you on campus once school starts again, I want to smile for you and mean it. I'm going to mean it. I promise.

            Love,

         Tumbleweed

Fifteen minutes

My mama says things like

"Colonoscopies: no ifs, ands... only butts."

And I try very hard not to give in and laugh.

Dear Mama,

You're always funny. Trust me.

-rae

Honestly. Vile. Abhorrent. REVOLTING.

Whenever my parents went on one of their many trips to Europe, I would stay at a friends house.

She would play The Nutcracker so we could go to sleep dreaming of sugar plum fairies, despite the fact that it was summer outside.

The Nutcracker is very relaxing.

However, my friend falls asleep super fast.

I don't.

So I would lay (or is it 'lie', anyone know?) for hours listening to lovely trilling flutes and all that jazz (not jazz. Classical...)

BUT

on the first night I slept over, I found out that when The Nutcracker CD ends, it's replaced with...

Simon and Garfunkel.

And not just Simon and Garfunkel,

but the song Mrs. Robinson.

Just MRS. ROBINSON.

Over and over and over again MRS. ROBINSON.

I would lay/lie/lye awake every night, listening to that dreaded intro to the song with the twangy guitar and the "dee dee dee doo doo doo..."

You can hear it, can't you?

Only now am I realizing that I really really love Simon and Garfunkel's music.

Especially Sound of Silence.

Though I'm not a fan of Cecelia.

And I still refuse to listen to MRS. ROBINSON.

I haven't even seen The Graduate, but I almost sure I already hate Mrs. Robinson with a passion.

See, isn't it annoying seeing her name over and over again?

You really wouldn't think I would still be bitter about it, but I still hear the song when I'm just barely falling unconscious.

Which may finally give us an explanation for my issues with sleep.

...and Dustin Hoffman.

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson...

I REALLY hate you more than you could know.

-rae

P.S. (Wo, wo, wo...)