What is it about a cold, dark Saturday night at about 3am that calls me out to my car? The first time, I realized, was a subconscious act to be near my car since it had been the anniversary of the death of Percius P. Percival, my scion xa who had been totaled a year ago, and I had not done anything to honor his memory. Tonight, I'm not sure. I don't remember April 27th being any day of significance in terms of my car. It seems that both times, I had an errand I had to run involving my car that, for some reason, could not wait until the morning. I feel wired. I feel like I need to do something. I can't sleep, I can't relax. At this time, all I can think of is going to sit in the warm comfort of my car. It could be nerves. I could be suffering from over stacked nerves about finals, end of the semester, finals, grades, friends, social interactions, family, interactions, moving out of my dorm, moving into my apartment, what I'm going to do for that week in between the two, this summer being my last camp summer, if I should find a doctor up here in Massachusetts, should I just stay with my pediatrician until I get kicked out of the office when I get to old because Massachusetts might be just a temporary thing, am I trying too hard, am I not trying hard enough, am I actually failing at my life, am I disappointing everyone, or am I just making everything up in my head?
Right now, all I know is that I appreciate you Swooshy. You are good to me.
Love,
Lunch Box.
Lunch Box.
I love you. And Swooshy too.
ReplyDelete