I grew up and I moved.
Robots and unicorns are cool and all, but I'm an adult now.
SEE YA NEVER.
Sorry if you think this is weird. If this is for you, you'll know by probably the next sentence.
Billy Gilman is gay. So there’s that… I’m sure you laughed a little about it on the inside. I did. It was impossible to explain to anyone why it was funny to me because it involved you.
The blue sparkly notebook? You left it. On purpose, I surmise. It’s packed away with all my other childhood memories. Childhood. Ha. It’s true though. None of that now is relevant. All a part of my growing childhood.
Shaun (Sean, Shawn, Sch-aun, etc.) from Studio C came in to the office the other day. Yeah, apparently he still works there. I thought you [might] have appreciated that but then I remembered you hate me.
I made the stamp N a while ago. It’s hanging on my wall. But Cami helped me and it worked out a lot better than you described. But I’m not really sorry about that. Nor will I ever be.
I still follow you on Pinterest. Sometimes I forget, and when I’m scrolling down my feed, I see something and think, “Ha, she would appre-….. yep. She pinned that.”
And the biggest news of all? He loves me. Yes, him. The boy in the sparkly blue notebook. The boy whose picture on my wall I stared at for hours on long summer nights while you were doing homework. The boy who you told me I had a better chance with than the one you were “waiting for”. Well how ironic since you’re married NOT to the one I wrote validating pages of facts to convince you it could happen. Anyways, he told me he loves me. Sometimes I wonder how it would have been if YOU were the in the bedroom that day when I got the email. But you weren’t. And it’s not like you care one bit. Nor do I know why I’m “telling” you this. He’s coming home next week and after reading through my letters with him, it’s amazing how many times you were mentioned and how a part of my life you were. But that’s all I’m going to say, because honestly, I don’t feel like you deserve to know any of that anyways.
You’re losing your touch. I know you don’t care. Or maybe you do…. I don’t know anymore. But if you still care, your blog is losing its touch. Yes, I still check it every once in a while, mostly because I can’t figure out how to take the link off my favorites sidebar on mine. It’s really torturous, actually. But yeah, I give it a B-, now. I hope you get a little chuckle from me saying that. I mean, I was the only one you ever accepted criticism from so it’s fine. I think. #sorrynotsorry
Sometimes I wish I’ll see you on campus…other days I don’t. You see, I have this whole big spiel in my brain what I would say to you if we ever had an awkward encounter. I have two, actually. One for “bigger person Nicole” and one for “natural man Nicole”. And I guess it’s good that I haven’t seen you since because I’m not quite sure what I really would say.
What you did is kind of a running joke in my apartment. You know, “Don’t pull a C-----!” If I look like I’m packing up my stuff, my roommates will ask me if I’ll be moved out by the time they get home. It makes me laugh. It feels so good to laugh about it. One day I’ll tell my children, “Yeah, I had a roommate and best friend who ended up actually hating everything that I was and moved out in 2 hours without even telling me.” And then one day you’ll tell your kids, “Yeah, I had a roommate and best friend who got on my nerves so much that I upped and left and moved out one day in 2 hours and didn’t even tell her.” And then we’ll all laugh at how crazy college was. I also never told you at how impressed I was that you got out in 2 hours. I still wonder some days how you did that…#wizard
Chances are you aren’t even reading this, but I think it was important all this escaped the dark corner of my brain where those feelings of helplessness and zero self-worth dwell. That’s all really. I hope you have a nice day, I really do. So yeah. Bye.