Regardless

because when you're really sad, you make the people you love art. even when they are sad and do not want to talk to you. because they're their own person, and that's all that matters. and you can say, "ich liebe dich" as much as you want, but that's not how it works. so sometimes all you can do is make art. and listen to the birds. and think about other things. and love that person regardless.

June

There's a familiar story someone told me about you. It involved nothing that was true, but rhymed ever so slightly, and had a good moral. It reminded me of the big window in my living room that is so big that we could not find blinds that fit it. Just a perfect window, because the sun would come in and light up the whole house. And when it would rain, the sun would shine through the rain drops left on the glass. And you could see everything from that window. You could see the skyscrapers downtown, and even the house next door with a cat sitting on the roof who would hide under the awning when it would rain–such a curious cat. But that window, with all it's grandeur and beauty, scared me sometimes too. I worried the glass would break in a storm, and then nothing would fix it. How do you fix glass? You can't, you have to replace it. And that thought terrified me even more. My roommates have lived here longer, though. They said it's been broken before, but it just has been miraculously fixed. Not sure I believe them. But I like that window. A lot.