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"You know, Reese, you really shouldn't write about him. That's like, even more of a statement."
'Are you insane? That's like asking me to not have an amazing rack. Of COURSE I have to write about him.'
"Well alright, it was just a thought."
'Besides you think he's actually reading this? He'd have to CARE to read this. Why would he waste his time reading my words when I'm soooo unhealthy for him?'

Wait.
ARE you actually reading this??
No way.
Really?
Hiiiiiiiiii.
(I'm waving vigorously at you).
Ppssst. Hey. 
Hey-remember that time you cried when I read you the nice letter I wrote?
Or that other time you didn't wanna read what I wrote cuz you were afraid it'd make you cry?
Good times, eh?
But I know, I know, I'M too fucking emotional.

Good thing this heartless bitch is out of your life.
Fucking encouraging you and shit.
Psssh.
Such a whore.

But the thing is, I totally hadn't been writing at all lately.
I mean, I don't even know what happened, but it's like, I forgot myself or something.
I guess parasites can do that to you.

And the really incredible part?
Is that I actually made myself laugh out loud writing today.
That is like, WORTH the tears.

Life happens and people turn out to not be who they led us to believe and we hurt and we mourn and we feel like the biggest fucking losers Portlandia possesses.
And then something clicks, and we realize the planes are still arriving and departing and we're still the same people we were before we listened to the lies that made us doubt ourselves.
And we smile and we laugh and we're stronger for making it through the night.
Our fever broke, along with our hearts, but there is always someone new making our phones blink.

And the new faces stir hope that others past had tried to destroy.
And once again I am convinced, I am stubbornly determined, that I will never go wrong believing the best in people.
No matter how many times they prove me wrong.
I'll still always believe.
I'll always believe in them.
Even when I'll never hear from them again.

But that's just me.
The person too daring to be worth any effort.

See, I always thought we'd met to make each others lives better.
That's just how it was between us.

But some things are transient.
Like random thoughts in a blog.
Seen. Consumed. Forgotten.