Figured I hadn’t done one in a while.

Sugar glazed cashews from the bulk bins.

Muge mutant avocados.

Brahms Violin Sonata in G Major – total relaxation.

Desperate, cramped loneliness from the lack of siblings.

SS and AD and college essays in English.

Ironically friendzoned by KD and WB and feeling even more lonely, and therefore pathetic,¬†because of the fact that I feel lonely because I’ve been friendzoned.

Brahms Piano Trio No. 1, Movement 2.

Silent phone.

Bluegrass and Chris Thile.

Fauré Piano Quintet No. 1 Op. 89.

Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off and totally jamming out while brushing my teeth.

Not practicing, not doing college essays, not hanging out with friends, not watching TV in Spanish, not eating real meals, not going on runs, and not doing homework because I’m too busy trying to do those very things, and therefore sitting in my bed watching Drake & Josh or reading interesting articles and eating total junk.



He’s over me. I’m not over him, but I’m working on it.

He’s ignored my texts, given one-word answers to enthusiastic questions, and taken days to respond. I think I’ve gotten the message.

It just kind of hurts.


My brothers have never *really* been a huge part of my daily life.

We’re not a crazy-tight family (not that we hate each other, but day-to-day, we do our own thing).

K left for college a month back. That went without us really feeling much of a change.
E left for college yesterday. Even that went without me feeling much of a change.

Until…just now.

My mom cooked vegetables, burnt them (typical), and left them in the pot for whoever to eat whenever. I took first pickings, being the one to save them from completely burning to the point of inedibility (typical).

I took a fourth of the share (typical), knowing there were three other people in the household who need to survive off the burnt vegetables. I stared into the pot. Then at my plate. Then into the pot.

And it hit me.

There are only two other people in the household who need to survive off the burnt vegetables. Two.

No one to give good afternoon grunts to when we were too lazy for proper greetings. No one to snicker with as my mother goes through all our of names before landing on the correct kid, dead last. No one to turn on dub step music to drown out my blasting classical symphonies. No one to make fun of when they talked to girls. No one to embarrass at school by hopping, school bag thumping on my side, across the student center to give an impromptu younger sister squirrel hug.

And I felt so lonely, staring into the pot, inhaling those carbon fumes of those typically burnt vegetables.


We, like, didn’t even acknowledge each other for a while. And then I was in one of my screw-it moods again last week, and I texted him some super blunt and vulnerable message about how I missed talking to him. He responded well…in a nice way.

So we hung out on Saturday…kind of. We went to his youth group meeting. Honestly, I really liked the atmosphere, but I’m not the best at small talk. It was fine. He slightly ditched me to say hi to everyone there – I’ve never seen him hug so many people. Usually, he keeps this respectful distance.

There was just this camaraderie that was so great, but that I wasn’t a part of, you know?

It made me realize how small a part of his life I was.

And I went home thinking about how unfortunately a large part of my life he was. At least the thought of him.

Ah…he’s an untouchable figure now. I realized a few days ago – he used to find some reason to talk to, or text me, or something, at least once a day. It was the high point of my day to pick up my phone to see the daily expectedly unexpected text from WB. Now…not so much.