November 13, 2015

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#5 November 13, 2015

Dear Fortunate Friend,

I never really thought about how many classes we have together until just now. I love the way that you are so focused in AP biology. Today, you told the teacher that you would make bread out of acorn flour. Honestly, I missed the beginning of that conversation, but it sounded entertaining all the same. When I sat in the teacher's chair and you called your best friend a walrus, he called you a buffalo. You made up some stupid thing about how awesome buffalo are. Everyone knows that no one cares about the buffalo. The teacher just laughed. He was also confused. I don't actually think that you will follow through with your plans to make acorn bread. I wonder if you are the kind of person that makes a point to follow through on your word. I have never given you an opportunity to fail me, and if I never do, therefore, you never will. I am a tortured, untrusting soul. Why can't anyone fix that?

Later in the day, we talked about superheroes. Apparently you're just beginning to get into comics books. Comic books are one thing I would never read for you. I would sit next to you and weave my hands through your curls as you read; I would never want to read them myself. There is so little plot in them. So little purpose.

I would like to say that we are friends now. And that is certainly an improvement from you being the beautiful boy in the back of the classroom that has a decent vocabulary and me being the quiet girl who has a bad habit of wondering the wrong things. You said goodbye when you left. I would take a million goodbyes if I got a million hellos. You know, I'm usually not this sappy, but there is just something about you. I wish I knew what it was, but maybe someday, I'll find out.

Love,

The Girl with the Bad Habit

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