So I want to dedicate this to Matt Trotter, who died today. I want to dedicate this to all of my friends I've left behind, to all of the people who've left me behind. This is to forgotten memories, stupid jokes, adolescence and hormones and impending senses of loss. This is to diving in blindly and hurtling along, eyes wide-open. I dedicate this to neediness and fear of change and longing and boldness and willingness to change and the fact that none of these things is mutually exclusive.
I dedicate this to road trips and betrayals and regret and imagined-kisses and true life hugs and tears not ignored. Here's to the boys and girls who held my hand when it didn't seem to matter and who've helped me be who I am today. Here's to the people who have taken the wrong path and made the wrong decisions and to those who made the grayest choices when black and white didn't make sense. To war and arguments and sex and marriage and ceremonial robes and certificates and paychecks and airplanes and blindness.
Sometimes you can sense the storm coming, but you can never sense whether or not you're going to come out of that storm okay.
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