Where's My Syllabus To Guide Me Through

Every Day, I Live A Lie But Not The Crocodile Kind.

I Thought Marcus Was Going To Be In My Life Forever. Then I Thought I Was Wrong. Now He’s Back. But This Time I Know What’s Certain: Marcus Will Be Gone Again, And Back Again And Again And Again Because Nothing Is Permanent. Especially People. Strangers Become Friends. Friends Become Lovers. Lovers Become Strangers. Strangers Become Friends Once More, And Over And Over. Tomorrow, Next Week, Fifty Years From Now, I Know I’ll Get Another One-word Postcard From Marcus, Because This One Doesn’t Have A Period Signifying The End Of The Sentence. Or The End Of Anything At All.

It Kind Of Makes Me Wish That The Worst Thing That Will Ever Happen To Me Would Just Hurry Up And Happen Already. That Way I Could Live The Rest Of My Life In Bliss, If Only Because I Know How Much Worse Things Could Be.

I Hate The Very Human Inclination Towards Insensitivity

It Just Makes Me Wonder What Subject You Blame For Talking To Me Every Night.' I'm Still Settling On An Answer For That One. Probably Chemistry. Jesus Christ. I Can't Believe I Just Wrote That.