I can smell your skin in my dreams. I can feel the sweat on your pillows and your arm behind my head. I can see it all so clearly. I can hardly breathe because it seems more real than not.
The thing about being on the brink of adulthood (which isn’t measured by age, mind you, but by the size of our responsibilities) is that we tend to believe our experience is enough. You’ve probably had your first job, your first apartment, and if you’re lucky, you’ve already had your first heartbreak. Continue reading
(So I wrote this a long time ago, but I thought it might help someone out there. -EssayLove)
The weather has been pretty crappy lately. Whether an overcast forecast to match my moods is a boon or a burden, I have not decided. But the truth is, I really don’t like rain. Soggy socks and damp clothes peeve me. So I asked my friend yesterday why adolescents don’t bother with umbrellas (one of the finer inventions). He told me simply, he likes the way it feels. He likes the way it plays with his hair and the way it overcomes him. At the time, I think I agreed to disagree. Continue reading