Dear December,
It rained--it's raining--hard today, tonight, and my jacket is still drying from this afternoon. It's night now, and I'm skipping out on studying and reading because it's not even close to appealing to me right now. What's the seventh amendment again? Right, now I remember. (Not really)
The right to freedom of speech, of religion, of peaceful protest, of petition, of slacking the fuuck off. God, I'm too tired. School is wearing down my edges, and somehow is making its way into my dreams. Last night I dreamt I was late to school. Cruel and unusual punishment? More like getting lunch detention for slipping into class 30 seconds late.
I'm sorry, December, I didn't even have a bad day. It's just--today, I realized that this dumb crush of two on and off years was pointless and unrequited. When he's quiet and he's not angled towards me in silence then it's not even real. It's supposed to be slightly unconscious. But when he grins, I am so conscious of it and my body floods with warmth and I grin, and it's means more for me than it means for him. I know for him, it's just a good friend and a witty joke, and barely anything more. For me, it is everything more, and the worst part is I'm used to it.
Screw him. Screw me. I'm getting over it.
December, it's raining, and still don't think it's stopped. At least the power stayed in, thank god, it's pouring danger outside.
Esther
YOU ARE READING
dear december
Non-FictionContinued from last month's Dear November letters. A little less angsty, a little more poetic. Originally done on Polyvore, by @writingtips' and @smileylina 's suggestion, who got the idea from Youtuber Carrie Fletcher's series 'Letters to Autumn'.
