it's love. really.

i spent the evening eating homemade quesadillas and cutting out hearts.

although in high school i swore against it i love valentine's day. i love celebrating love. because, although there is no crunchy peanut butter to my strawberry jelly just yet, i love a lot of people. and i am also loved by a lot of people.

love love notes.
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i woke up one morning last year and became very aware of my heartbeat. it may have been the one thing i was grateful for that morning. life.

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and that time we were sitting on the couch in 374?
you had your arm around me. i could hear your heartbeat. you were keeping me alive.

january is a bad month. toujours.

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i was sticky from sitting in the ford escort too long.
it was one of those summer days that lingers on your skin.
the sprinklers barraging the door offered no solace, and fernando was playing.

dear andous. i like you. now i'm going to europe.

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another january decorated with rain and the prospect of two mix cd's proclaiming independence. you came over in an instant with names at the top of your hit list.

(you don't have to hate him anymore. it's not worth it.)

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red heads are lucky for me.

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i think that the rain was there for both of us as we stood by the jkb. you told me about your brother. i told you how my heart hurt. we were sort of meant to be friends. both of us artists, unsure about what was going to happen.

[here's a secret: it worked out.]

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and i sat on the edge of the blue chair and cried for the millionth time. you said it would be okay. he knew long before you did. let it be.

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then you both came out of the house while i was in my sweats, sitting in my car. there was a used tissue in the glove compartment. you both had ties on.

just trust.

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happy valentine's day.