This blog is Mel's fault

Histrionic moments

Month: August, 2013

Seventeen Minutes


In the summer you missed the fairies having a dancing party in your garden because you went off somewhere not as pretty to do something less important.

When in the winter you stopped loving me, I thought it was maybe because it had grown too dark for you to see.

Middle seasons don’t exist in love and somehow I am always cold.

I fear I have fallen long ago into the gap between us and your ears, so accustomed to my screams, no longer react, but the wolf has come hungry for blood and a beating heart this time.

The world remains beautiful; it just hurts to look at, that’s all.

The pain in my stomach has moved to my chest, but I blame my eyes; evil machines operated by the demons running free and destructive in my head. They stomp so loud – too loud – but still you won’t hear.

The wind blows unpleasant and pushing me and I can’t figure out when it started to break through me.

That summer day you left, you hated me for trying to share the pain and I hated you for not wanting to help me the way I would throw myself at a thousand sharks if they had stolen your smile.

The fairies went to bed and still you did not return and the drums beat louder in my breast.

The time of day when the sun is set but its light remains is the stillest and therefore the most beautiful.

The wind gone, I tried to imitate a flower, standing pretty and quiet, growing in peace and only making people happy.

I smiled at no one because I thought maybe you would like to find me smiling for once.

In the evening, with food and too much noise, surrounded by dark, you could see me so well and I knew even the brightest of lights that winter would not have helped me keep your love.

You held me tight in the morning and it felt a little like love until you left and I again sat waiting.


Dear Mel,

This blog is your fault and it’s driving me crazy.

But more importantly you are soon to be leaving on what might just be (I’m pretty sure it will be) the journey of your life.

(Leaving me here alone for Bar school, but we will get to that.)

Before you go, there is some wisdom, silliness and love that I must share with you.


New York with you will always be a second home.

I like to reminisce on our Say yes to the Dress marathon in the Hotel Radisson’s gym.

Imodium is a lifesaver.

Our letters from Hogwarts got lost in the mail.

On a related note, should we try corresponding by owl while you are gone?

The marijuana is very strong in Amsterdam.

You are one of the best, most devoted friends anyone could ever wish for.

I realized this week that, to this day, I cannot wear grey pants with a blue shirt. #toomuchchapters #dontknowhowyoudidit

We started a book club at the beginning of the summer, but haven’t read one book together yet. That’s got to be some sort of record.

Remember to never buy tickets for shows on the canal near my parents’ house.

Does your mom make tzatziki?

I am just a Skype call away for all your venting needs (and all the wonderful stuff too).

I am not mentally ready for the Bar.

My shoes are still bloody from our night on the town that ended with the longest walk of life.

They say what people mean the most if always what comes after “but”. So, be careful, but have fun.

Here come the tears, time for me to go.

I will wait for you at Second cup.