Oh my God you figured it out. Oh my God. Now I know. And I'm so glad.

I FIGURED IT OUT!!!!!!

I don't like him. I don't love him.

THAT WOULD BE ******
because we are one and he is me and I am him and what I thought was love was just me being stupid and just me liking how he likes to cuddle and now I know it's not true and I can't thank you enough.

And you put it into words so eloquently, not your strongest point Sammie.

You can get married or whatever but don't date cause that would be ******.

And it would be and it is so thank god we're not dating even though everyone wants us too.

I'm so relieved

And I texted you thanks Sammie and you replied ok... and I sent you a smiley face even though what I really wanted to do was kiss you and thank you a billion time because now I'm not confused anymore and I don't need to be embarrassed or hate myself because I didn't want to like him. And now I know I don't.

The squeak of rubber soles on the tiled red and black floor. The tripping over ourselves. The track. And you Regina. Making our heads spin slowly. Or Broadway at midnight, Pandora. Dancing, ignoring Mateo next door. After all he is louder than us. Maybe. The July, August, then September sun fading slowly. The gentle kisses of rain on our cheeks and lips. The wet hair, flinging back and forth. Ikea. Rocks. Sexist boys. Thunder. Hipsters. Hips. Chests. Smiles. Laughter. Singing. Dancing. Wet. Perfect. Stage. Dark. These make up our times together. The train. This houses some of them. Ice, cold and hot, slipping over our skin. Water makes us up. We make up our minds. Emails. By the time summer comes, we shall be gone. Taking our chemistry and voices away. Apart we are nothing. Together we are a chorus. Songs. They make up most of what we are. Emotions. They are us.

I was angry.
******.
I ran from the beach. I held my towel and sweater.
My glasses were foggy.
I couldn't see anything.
I pulled them off and clenched them in my fist.
I flew over the bridge and tore through the woods.
My flashlight beam was slow
Wavering.
I ran
tripped
jumped
panted
scraped
screamed
flew
up the stairs.
I was angry.
******.
Why couldn't they leave me alone.

Up the stairs.
Rocks
Sticks
Bumps
******* sharp things
Leaves.

The lights of the house glowed up ahead.
Bright.
Too bright.
Like my grandma.
I ran to them.

Around the house.
Through the door.

Bright greeted me.
Are you going in the sauna?
Why the **** do we HAVE a sauna!!!!!
We're in the middle of nowhere
We swim in a lake
We drive an hour
To get to the closest town
And yet we have a SAUNA

No. I'm not going in.

I'm already steaming.
Even though I'm steaming
A *** boiling over
She SMILES
******* SMILES
Why are you SMILING?
So you're just fine like that?

Slam.
Slam the door.
Goodbye.
No more.

I'm crying.
Hot tears over my cold body.
My nose hurts.
I cry and cry.
But no one hears me.
He's in the next room
And he doesn't hear me.
They're still at the beach. I hear them
And they don't hear me.

I sit on the floor.
I ignore the wet spot I'm making on the stupid grey rug.
I pull my wet towel to me.
I haven't dried off yet.
I don't.

I don't care.

I stand up.
I stop crying and pull my towel over my head.

It is dark.
I stand there.
And then I walk.
Through the room
Bumping into beds and walls.
I am nothing.
Nothingness itself.
I see no one
And no one sees me.
I can't see.

I can't see.

I hear my name over and over.

What is that?
Nothing.

What did you say?
Nothing.

What do you want?
Nothing.

Yeah right.

What's up?
Nothing.

Sure. Nothing.
The word one uses when we cannot speak.

I stop being nothing and take off the towel.
I am not nothing.
I am Nikita.
I am crying again.
I hear them coming up the stairs outside.
I gather my clothes and put on my glasses.
Still foggy.
I take them off.

I leave the room.

Are you heading to the sauna?

No.

I go to the bathroom.

STOP SAYING MY NAME

I DON'T WANT DESSERT

I DON'T WANT CHOCOLATE CAKE

I'm crying again.

And there is nothing I can do.
And they wrap around me
And I can't breathe
And I throw my head back wailing

And I can do nothing.
And there is nothing I can do.

How can you stand it.
How are you so strong.

I am proud of you.
You are my baby.
And you are my friend.
And you are my sister.

And you are what stop me
When they come
And I can't do anything to fight them
And the song in my head is loud and won't go away
And my thoughts torment me.
And I think of you

And how you fight them everyday
And everyday you come out stronger.

I'm so proud of you babe.
I'll never be as strong
Or as brave
As you.

But by God I'll try.

You could go to bed and listen to them partying hard
Outside smoking joints in the night in the backyard
You could complain that their music's too loud
Or you could just say **** it and go join the crowd

I drew an exclamation point in the air
I watched it float around
It moved with the people
The wind
The noise of the city

I saw the exclamation point
Just floating
And so I decided
To turn it
Into
A poem

Not so different from this one
Was the poem

I picked up a pen
And wrote
And wrote
And wrote
In the air

And you saw
Me writing
My poem

And you saw
The exclamation point
Floating
Towards you

You said
Tell me what you know
And I told you
About the poem
And the exclamation point

And you smiled
And held out your hand
And I put a pen in it

And we wrote in the air
Beside the point

Punctuation floating round our heads.

I just looked at something. I mean really looked.
It kind of scared me.
But a gentle kind of scare.
A sighing scare.
An anything scare.

I looked at a window.
Not through a window.
But at a window.

The sun reflected off of it.
It hurt my eyes.
Ow.
I turned away
And then back.
There were trees
Floating
On the surface of the window.
The glass was cool
And soft.
Sweet.

I just looked at the water. Really looked.
Brow furrowed.
Eyes wide.
A concentrating stare.
Trying to make sense of the ripples and waves.

I just looked at myself.
Yes, I feel like everyone else sometimes.
I am ugly.
I am fat.
What is wrong with me.

But there are the times when I'm not.
When I'm exceptional.
When I'm Extraordinary.
And those are the times
When

I can feel my eyes smiling
I can feel them snake around my
round
round
round
round pupils.
I can feel the small dimple
Only one
On the left side of my face
Appear.
I can see how thin
my ankles
and wrists are.
The ones that make it so Phoebe can fit into NONE of my shoes.
(Even though we are the same size)
My big feet don't look big.

My eyebrows.
They are perfect.

I love my hands.
My fingers
and arms.
I love that sometimes I smirk and look almost like
Emma Watson.

I could've had a million likes
And American Apparel
And too many OMGs, and BTWs to count
More GORGs, PERFs than money can buy
And LMAOs, and STFUs that reach beyond infinity
And two katrillion followers
And "friends"
All of 'em,
Even the ones I don't know.

What do I have?
No American Apparel
2 "friends"
4 likes
And never any GORGs
And 34 followers
But I have more friends than you can count
And all of my *** PERFs come from the heart
In other forms
Like you're so smart
You are beautiful
Wanna hang out
And smiles
Eyes that look like snakes
Yes, I have no ILYs or IMYs.
Instead, I have
I love yous
And
I miss yous.
And I am happy.
And that is what really matters.

Do you like him?

I don't want to.

But you do?

Yes.

Jude
What is up with you?

Jude
I'm confused.

What did I get?
Nothing
Nothing
Oh well
That's ok
That's more than ok
I'm happy
Happy with nothing

Today's a working day.
     One of those days you feel like working.
           When you just want things to look good.
                   When you just want life to look good.
                             So you decide to do something about it.
                                        And that something will be working.
                                                    Because today is a working day.
                                                             Except then when you start working,
                                                                        You decide you don't feel like it.

I just need an answer.
One word.
A yes,
Or a no.
Please?