It is 10:18 at night
I think I remember what it was like
Sometimes when it's late and I'm alone
I remember what it was like
Not the actual feelings, I can never go back to that state
But I get a metallic taste on my tongue
The taste from where the bobby pin used to sit
You see, I used to be sad
I'm not sad anymore
I'm alive
I feel emotions rushing through my body now, not just my head
I see colors other than the blue of the sad and the pink of the skin
I listen to happier music
I laugh harder
I feel lighter
I forget completely what it was like
Save for nights when I am all alone
It is 10:24 at night
I think I remember what it was like

I just hope we don't end up strangers again
I wish we could repair what we've broken
But you have too little time before your student visa expires
And I have too little courage to put myself back out there
I hope you remember me occasionally when you're 3,340 miles away

One of the four lights over my vanity blew out today
The bulb doesn't look the way it used to look
It doesn't look the way it looked before the light
It is hardly noticeable, but once you spot it you can tell
It's a shade darker in one area; a little burnt patch from the light
It was the light that blew out, not the bulb
But now neither are useful

What's a light without its bulb -- the glass casing to hold it in?
A light without the bulb still shines
It shines too brightly though
Despite the high melting point, the tungsten filament can be extremely delicate
It needs its glass case

What is a bulb without a light -- that which makes it useful?
What is the purpose to an empty glass ball?
I suppose it can be beautiful, if viewed by the right person
But can it really be appreciated by most without the light?

One was delicate, it needed another to keep it from falling apart
One was empty, and needed another to fill it with light
Both needed each other

So am I the light or the bulb?
And which were you?

cha-ris-ma
/kəˈrizmə/
Compelling charm that can inspire devotion in others
Can you imagine?
Being so fluent with your words, so ably presentable that you could encourage and influence people to take action?

It began as an indirect interest
Transformed into a simple acquaintanceship
Quietly building
A little unsure, both hopeful
He watched my favorite movies with me
I wish I could've invented a new word for cuddling; Our bodies fit like puzzle pieces that day
It left me feeling shaky and scared as hell when we finally parted
The first kiss was my favorite part
Not knowing what was going to happen next
I would've sat through thousands of his games
I always said I didn't want to
but I would've helped carry his equipment anywhere, anytime
His left eyebrow always challenged me
Your unshaven jaw always managed to find the perfect place against my cheek
I've never spent that much time on the phone
I can't imagine trying to laugh as quietly as possible in the latest hours of the night with anyone else
I can't describe it
That feeling when everything in the world is just right, because of one person?
That's not what this was
Because it was rarely ever right
This isn't a love poem
Puzzle pieces can't make up for endless arguments
Being ignored all night
Getting adjusted to the fact that "hockey friends" means that he's with his ex-girlfriend
Seeing hand-written letters from her still in his room when I finally gave everything
He was so in the wrong, so why was I being interrogated?
Controlling is not the word I’d use,
I was always given a choice
But what was I supposed to do
When he didn’t like anything I did but all I wanted was to be with him
"I don’t want you to go to that party
"I trust you, I just don’t trust them
"I’ll talk to you after this movie I’m at with all my female friends
"I don’t like how many guy friends you have
"Do you think he’s cute?
"Do you talk to other boys?
"Do you think about other boys?
"Promise?
"Tell me that you promise
"Are you lying?
"Tell me that you’re not lying
"You should tell me all the guys you were into before me
"I don’t like when you talk about your exes
"If you don’t want to argue then just hang up the phone
"Why do you always hang up on me?
"Why are you always mad about nothing?
"Why do you always start arguments?
Everything starts out innocent
But it’s not long before things began their descent
Getting to know people is exciting
Until you start fighting
Liking someone can be the best feeling in the world
But it’s never long before everything becomes unfurled
I’ve always heard that a good relationship takes compromise and hard work
I heard that in a good relationship you have to apologize for what you’ve done wrong
But eventually I was apologizing for everything and it didn’t even take long
So how long do you have to know someone before all the good in your relationship peaks?
How long do you have to know someone before they make a lasting impression?

When I was still a first-year I did some research
Just as a science project
I looked into the danger of wildfires
I discovered that in some national parks
Fires are intentionally set
Just to clear out underbrush which restricts the growth of the older trees
It makes perfect sense
But addressing the concept baffled me
Setting a fire on purpose could help preserve the life of a stronger entity
As long as the fire is contained
So all those little arguments that seem like wildfires
Might not be so bad
Maybe they are to clear out the so called "underbrush"
The minor things that restrict the growth of the stronger entity, that is our relationship
Shouldn't the stronger entity come first?
As long as our arguments are contained,
I believe they can help us to grow
Because I read somewhere that fires are intentionally set
For a better purpose

I don’t like Julia Roberts
All my friends know that
But they don’t know why
Sometimes they ask
I just brush it off with a shrug and say, “It’s a really long story”
I’m scared to tell my friends why
I’m afraid my opacity might decrease to the point where I become transparent
I never want anyone to be able to see right through me
But it’s weighing down on me, almost a chip on my shoulder
I think it’s time to share why

I saw Eat Pray Love for the first time when I was a freshman
I had read a few good reviews, and watched the trailer a couple times
The movie was highly anticipated
I rented the DVD and watched it by myself
It really wasn’t that great
I got lost somewhere between the “life-affirming pasta” and the affair with a man seemingly half the main character’s age
I was disappointed

When I was first a freshman, things were changing
I didn’t have many of my middle school friends, or really any at all
I wasn’t sure who to sit with in class or at lunch
I didn’t know who to talk to in the hallway for at least a solid month
I wanted something, anything constant
Some trait that would set me apart and become part of my character
A character I didn’t think I had
Julia Roberts received the short end of the stick
It seems so small and silly
But a distaste for Julia Roberts has tethered me to being someone
Why Julia Roberts? Because it’s not like I haven’t seen any movies worse than Eat Pray Love
I really didn’t have a reason at all
But it’s the lack of motive for hating Julia Roberts that fuels it now
I never had a reason to hate her
I’m worried my friends may think the reason I don’t like her is some elaborate mysterious tale they’ll only get to hear if they’re lucky enough for me to trust them

I don’t want to appear limpid to them, I’d rather die than seem boring
I blame Julia Roberts for that lack of character that left an empty gap in my life last year
I’ve always feared not having enough friends and I blame Julia Roberts
It’s the worry that I’m not interesting enough that keeps the flame burning
I blame Julia Roberts for the uncertainty and indecision that would ever make me too dull

Because who else do I blame?
The only other option is myself
I don’t want to do that
I like myself
I haven’t been quantifiably insecure in so long
I’m interesting enough, right?

I’ve got a super cool backstory explaining the secret reason for my mysterious aversion to Julia Roberts that I don’t tell people because I don’t have to expose all my secrets to be comfortable with who I am because I am interesting enough on my own

But the words plain, average, simple, and typical haunt me
What if my story doesn’t make them laugh?
What if my thoughts are too cliché?
What if I don’t have a good enough reason to dislike Julia Roberts?
They might return me to that friendless stage where I surround myself with people who don’t try to get to know me because I’m not interesting enough
Blaming everything on Julia Roberts hides the faults within myself
Faults that I pray only I can see
And when I don’t like Julia Roberts
I can like myself
So I don’t like Julia Roberts

I remember wandering down the streets of Boston
On a shopping expedition to find the perfect earrings for the show that night
I couldn't wear just any old pair to the Opera House
I saw a staircase in an alleyway
Leading to the basement of an old building
I would've steered clear
But there was a little wooden sign
"old books"
I made a strict detour and spent forever in the underground bookstore
It was a maze of shelves
The smell of the old ink & paper was intoxicating
What Opera House?
What earrings?
What obligations?
If I could spend my life in one place
It would be that little Boston bookstore

As your hand grips the headboard
and mine grasps the wrinkled sheets
I wonder what this is
One night stands are supposed to be straight-forward
We are not in a relationship
But if I spent all year trying to get you
And all night having you
What do I do in the morning, when I have simply had you
I no longer know how to speak with you
I know there were no strings attached
How do I casually let you know it would be fine if you ever wanted to do it again?
I promise not to get emotionally attached
We never have to be sober around each other
We can take shots in your bed again
I just wanna watch you take your bow-tie off again, I could help
Something about you makes me want more
I promise it's not emotional
I can **** without it meaning anything just like you do
It can be purely physical

I almost wish one of us had left after
You asked me if you could stay, but it was your bed anyway
I asked you if I could stay, but you never answered
You should have answered, you should have told me to get out
Who the hell cuddles after a one night stand?
I barely know you, but you read my body like braille
Whispering drunken secrets after
You don't get to teach me how to shift from screams to whispers so effortlessly and decide you only want it once
Just one more time before you leave
I swear I won't get emotionally attached

You should never make fun of someone else’s beliefs
Where you are right now has less than a few hundred million miles of surface area
You can’t even walk on 70% of it
77 years of life on average if you’re a healthy American
That’s only 4,015 weeks
28,105 days on this small planet floating in a large black mass
You’ve already lived about one eighth of your life
Time won’t stop for you
Your days on this blue marble go by and there’s nothing you can do to stop it
Believing there’s something more is nothing to scoff at
Do you really believe that? they say
Do you really believe there is a man in the sky?
Well since you asked here’s my answer
I believe there is meaning in every day
I believe there is a point to waking up and doing good actions
I believe there is a spirit in emotion
And a metaphysical being who loves me endlessly
Yes
I believe in something more
Now it’s my turn
Do you really believe that?
Do you really believe this whole thing is a scientific coincidence?
A cosmic collision at a specific point
An explosion that created all of this
Perfect atoms with electrons that bond and share
Creating perfect cells with all the right organelles
A process of cellular respiration that coordinates as a perfect opposite to photosynthesis
All to maintain homeostasis,
the so-called “wonder process”
that keeps us all alive
Our bodies preserve an exact temperature, the ocean an exact pH and salinity and the ground an exact resistivity
To keep us all alive
Scientific coincidence
We are all a coincidence?
What about that shooting in Newtown
More than one kid took a gun to his head
and what for?
Why was that so tragic?
The shooter could have been conducting a scientific experiment
What is the basis of right and wrong derived from?
What are feelings derived from?
Don’t tell me it’s science
Don’t tell me that it’s science that makes you cry when you get dumped
Science that breaks your heart when you lose that state championship
Science that lightens your spirit when you go home to your beautiful family after a long hard day
It’s not science
It’s your soul
A soul given to you with a light side and a dark side
A soul with genius thoughts and horrid sins
Genius thoughts you should act on
Horrid sins you may commit anyway
and He will love you
He will forgive you
Will your precious science forgive you?
I wouldn’t force anything on anyone
I wouldn’t question beliefs in science had my faith in God not first been tested
I’m not asking you to believe, whether you do or not won’t affect our relations
I just need to explain
To each his own
So don’t laugh at me

It was just a little test for myself
Sometimes I like to do that, throw little challenges here and there
I wanted to see if I could do what most girls fail at
I wondered if I could spend the night with the cutest guy in school and not get attached
A little drugs, a little drinking, the rest of the night together making memories he wouldn't remember

But I woke up in the morning and left, freaking out
I picked up my clothes and tried to put them on silently so I wouldn't wake him up
I didn't want him to be angry
He truly does have the most beautiful face I've ever seen
Before I snuck out the door left ajar,
I peeked back at him
I'd never seen his hair product-less and messy like that
I'd never seen his face so far away, thousands of miles in dreams and thoughts
This man who drank and swore and didn't seem to have any soul at all
Then looked to me like a beautiful, vulnerable child

I knew I had to get out before the feelings came so I ditched that room as fast as possible
I hopped over unconscious bodies still recovering from the haze of the previous night's party
I finally found an empty recliner
And dozed off

I woke up two hours later in a fright
I was in a room full of people I didn't even like
Why did I go to that party anyway
Those were not my people
Drugs and drinking were not my thing
Oh, now I remember
It was his birthday party
He who held me like a baby after a night of acts that would make any mother cringe
I knew this recliner was a bad idea and wondered if there was any way I could get back in bed with that beautiful boy
I knew I'd always regret it if I didn't

I opened the door as silently as possible
and crawled back under those thick white sheets
I tried to lay as far away as possible,
because people who don't have feelings for each other do not need to hold each other more than necessary
And he had none for me
And I could not have feelings for him
Just when I felt a hollow sadness strike
He reached out his foot and placed it adjacent to mine, a small gesture
I let his instep match mine and sighed inexorably with content
This little touch filled me with a happiness I'd never known
No feelings though, remember?
I chased that thought away and let my other foot get tangled up in his
My legs followed and soon we were cuddled up again
I peeked at him again and saw a trace of a smile on that (hungover and half-asleep, but beautiful) face
I wanted to kiss him but I wasn't sure if that was allowed
So I just pressed my smile against his arm
We laid there forever it seemed

Eventually though, he held me out at arms length and leaned away from me and began to cough
He coughed a few times and apologized,
then coughed just a few more
Then he went back to sleep

I can't explain the way I felt when those coughs hit him
I wanted to reach out and hold him
I know he smokes way too much
But I felt like it was my fault his lungs weren't perfect
I wanted to protect him from all things bad like coughing
All the signs were there before, now that I look back
But that's the exact moment when I knew feelings were going to be a problem

Her voice poors out of her mouth
She is able to stand on that stage and share her talent
She is talented
That voice is thick and strong and loud enough to reach hundreds of ears
That voice is smooth and gentle and soft enough to please hundreds of hearts
What good is a second-rate piano player compared to a voice like that?
Her skirt will always be longer, more flirty
Her teeth with always be straighter, tucked further away with the pensive look she has
It is my love for Victor Hugo against her love for Victor Hugo
My love for Broadway versus her love for Broadway
But all I have is 10 stubby fingers to tickle the worn Baldwin in my living room
She has that voice in a room full of red velvet seats
It is my interest in Kristin Chenoweth against her interest in Kristin Chenoweth
We both like to read
We both like the theatre
We both like you
But what can compare to a voice like that?

I thought it was going to be better
They always warn you
Judy Blume thought she could explain
So you prepare yourself that physically it won't prosper
Maybe that's not what they meant
Did they mean emotionally?
I hoped maybe I'd fall in love
But I didn't
You're still just a boy
And I'm still just a girl
And there's nothing that could have prepared me for that epiphany

I wish I could write beautiful things
I think I imagine beautiful things
But I can't be sure
Each time I write them down
They turn to ****
I think they might be ugly things
My writing is not as beautiful as I had hoped
I just want to be part of beautiful things