Dear Friend,

The season two finale of Doctor Who really hit home. Considering how much I view my life through the paradigms of TV shows, it was scary to see a show that mirrored my life so accurately. Obviously I haven't fought aliens or time-travelled, although one time I had a few hits of weed and it felt like I had the ability to freeze time. But the scene where Rose was brought kicking and screaming into a different universe, separated by The Doctor by being literally worlds apart, resonated with me. 

You know what it felt like, my friend? Before, it felt like anytime something went wrong in any relationship I could go home and say to myself, at least I know someone would still want me. There is still one more person left who wouldn't have treated me like a disposable toy. But now, now it feels like the last person that I could count on for that piece of comfort is gone. I can't because he's someone else's now, he's someone else's but no one has stepped up to claim me from the playpen of lost kids waiting for their ride home. 

The human mind is really too smart for its own good, isn't it? Because try as you might to make yourself think that your world and your life doesn't revolve around some stupid boy, some bitch of a girl, some societally reinforced image of what a relationship should be, at the end of the day it's still there. It resurfaces after a day spent trying to drown it in the clutter of busywork you surround yourself with. You can tell yourself that your life is more than who you're fucking but when the sun goes down it all boils down to one fundamental fear. No, your mind won't stand to be deceived by your half-ditch efforts. Your mind knows. It knows you hate this and you hate yourself for hating this. 

But the sun is a salvation. Because our misery and worries and born of doubt and darkness but it all fades into insignificance in the luminance of sunshine. We just have to be patient enough to see the sun again. 

With love,

Your friend 

Dear Friend,

I heard a story today. There was a psychologist who walked around a room holding up a glass of water, presenting it to the audience. The class was on stress management. The audience probably expected her to ask if they thought the water was "half empty" or "half full" (the right answer is that it is completely full, of course) but instead she asked how heavy did they think it was. The answers ranged from 8oz to 20oz.

The actual weight, she says, doesn't matter. "If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”

All I thought about was how I would have just drank the water. 

With love,

Your friend

Dear Friend,

I don't like to admit it, but sometimes I get sucked into a spiral of jealousy. When things seem to be going so well for the ones around me, I put on the face I'm expected to put on and I pretend that I'm happy for them. But I'm not. If you're not happy for yourself then what is the whole point of happiness? Personal happiness is a right you owe yourself, not a gift you can magnanimously bestow upon others. I think we can be happy for someone else when we already have what they have, and then we can go, "oh I'm so happy you've finally caught up."But I think it's really difficult to look at someone who has more and be happy when you see what you haven't got. 

But I have got a lot, I think. We are the human race but our existence isn't a race. I rather believe it isn't all a big competition to get to the finish line because there really isn't anything beyond that. I like to believe that we all have a time when something we desire will come to us, at the moment when we're most poised to receive it. When I go to bed tonight I don't want to see scenes of what could be, I want to turn that all off and be content in the warmth of the luxury I'm surrounded by. I know I'm loved. I feel it in the embrace of my family. I hear it in the laughter of my friends. One day I'll see it reflected in the eyes of someone I love. That day won't be today, but that's okay. It won't be for a while, that's okay too.

What do we do when we're most jealous of the ones we love the most? Let go of the pettiness? Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. 

With love,

Your friend

Dear Friend,

I miss you. Despite having been irritated by you, irked by you, frustrated by you and even repulsed by you, I miss you. I look back fondly at our laughs and our connection. Once upon a time I thought you were the most delightful, fantastic person, but like everyone who got to know someone well, we eventually see the sides that we don't like. At that moment we must make a choice. Do we accept their flaws and put aside our judgement, or do we decide that the ugliness of their character overshadow all the beauty? When we choose to accept their flaws, are we doing it because we're afraid to lose a friend? Are we sacrificing our own values? 

But here we are, years later, worlds apart- and I miss you. I want to bridge our distance with words, and I want you to know me, again. I want you to rediscover me the way I have rediscovered you, and grant me the light of your kindness rather than keep me in the shadow of our past.

These days I feel an anxiety, a gnawing seed of anxiousness that tells me there is somewhere else I need to be.The semester is winding down, along with my year as a junior, and the prospect of a summer in Paris beckons. I feel something out there, out of Madison, out of America, and it is calling my name. I hear it whispering promises of fulfilled opportunities. Something, someone, is waiting for me out there and all I have to do is to meet it. I will have a moment, we could have a moment, and it will pass, fleetingly. But it will be okay. Because I will have grown, and that is mine forever. 

I miss my mother, of her nurturing warmth and ready humor. I miss my father, of his unfailing confidence and boundless knowledge. But I lie to them and I deceive them. I am unable to be honest because of their failure to embody one aspect of parenthood, that of unconditional acceptance. But I realize that parents are children too. Mothers and fathers are also daughters and sons, and they deserve the unconditional acceptance to be who they are by the ones who love them. And I love them. I will be the mother and father to the ones I love, and I will be loving and supportive and accepting even when - especially when - they haven't shown it to me. Rather than try to be the child they wished I could be, I will try to be the parent they couldn't be.

Until next time,

Your friend