A Letter to No One

I almost feel bad about not writing lately.

Or maybe I would feel bad if the silence didn't feel so good.

Sometimes not saying anything, and just letting all the useless words that don't mean anything, that don't fix anything, that don't change or prevent anything, dry up and die inside you rather than letting them out and allowing them to live in infamy forever, allowing them whatever minor effect they might have on whoever they might have it on, feels better.

I open my email and start a new message at least once a day.

I start to type something, but then I remember it just doesn't matter.

Sometimes all the pretty words in the world don't mean anything.

And then I contridict myself by reading all my favorite books one more time.

I'm halfway through Alice in Wonderland, and this time I think I dislike Alice a little, but the Mad Hatter and I would be good friends.

I'm a quarter of the way into White Oleander.

I'm on the first chapter of Vinegar Hill.

Today I ordered The Lover's Dictionary, but I don't know why.

Maybe it was his definition of Aberrant, and the way it made my heart catch in my throat because it reminded me of everything, and it was the truest thing I'd read in so long, it made me think of the way people must feel when they find God while reading the bible.

Aberrant: adj.

"I don't normally do this kind of thing", you said

"Neither do I" I reassured you.

Later it turned out we both had met people online before, and we both had slept with people on the first date before, and we both had found ourselves falling too fast before. But we comforted ourselves with what we really meant to say, which was:

"I don't normally feel this good about what I'm doing"

Measure the hope of that moment, that feeling.

Everything else will be measured against it.

-The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan

I guess even when I deny words, and their effect on me, they're still the closest I've ever come to a religion.