Dear Bridget, Do You Know What It Feels Like to Explode?

Hello Bridget,

It’s almost your birthday. I have been thinking of your birthday ever since I first heard this song months ago. It’s a sad song, and you aren’t a sad person, but it is a beautiful song, and you are a beautiful person. It’s almost your birthday, you know.

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Don’t you want someone to have said this of you many, many years from now?

Summer is a wild time. People are doing things they don’t ever do, I think. Nobody wears clothes, and everyone sweats all the time, but no one really cares. Our lives get shaken up like a snowglobe and we all just run around waiting for the sparkles to settle.

I rearranged my room again, speaking of snowglobes. I had to move my bed. I think I’ve exhausted my options of places to move my bed with ease. Next time I move my bed to a new place it’ll mean that I’ll need a friend who can also help me move my dresser, because I’ve pretty much put my bed on all of the other walls, except for the wall with my hella heavy dresser. Sometimes when things feel stuck or all moving around or everything all together, you just have to move your bed around to feel like you have control of the change that’s happening in your life. Maybe everyone doesn’t feel that way. But apparently I do.

A week from now I’ll be sleeping in your bed and eating bread pudding with you and your roommate family and playing monopoly with you on the floor with our buddies in California. It’ll be a grand time and I’m holding my breath until it happens.

See you soon, amigo.

I love you more than you hate vegan mexican food (and GRACIAS MADRE for that).



I’m already tired thinking about the flight though.

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