dear GOD.

I really wanted to go to Thailand.

I'm not really that heartbroken.

I didn't really think I would be going.

But every now and then, there's a real pang:

like when I see anything that says GoED.

Or when people talk about petitioning North Park for credit.

or when I realize I still haven't told Charith.

I want to withdraw my application,

because I don't want to see the cheery little email saying:

'You're accepted!'

and having to decline.

I try not to think about it too hard.

When people ask, I'm honest.

"I need to start realizing I'm not going for real.

I formulated my identity around it,

Around who I was supposed to be after."

It's honest. and it's true.

But I don't think I can handle any questions after that.

Any real questions.

I've hidden all the things that remind me of hot tropical places.

I try to suppress the thoughts of me strolling in markets

of standing at open windows in soft red and purple wrap skirts.

or remembering that this was supposed to be what showed me my purpose.

oh. and it was supposed to be the compromise with my parents.

I could be poor. As long as it was something they could brag about to their friends.

And for all my education, independence, and pretending to be grown up,

I'm still a little child daydreaming of someone who will love me more than anyone else.

I still wish for romance.

for shivers.

for butterflies.

and real kisses.

but more so, I still hope for a man

to walk sleepy and dark roads with me,

to talk Jesus, media, and justice with me,

and who actually actually desires me for real.

I don't really think I'll ever have that. I don't know where such people are.

I hoped he would be in Thailand.

I really don't feel like this should matter.

I really don't want it to.

I'd rather not deal with these things.

I'd rather forget about it.

-me.