Fifteen Minutes.

This is my favorite picture of myself. Taken in late 2004 at UNM's premier pizzeria right about the time I felt like everything in my life was getting back on track after some personal trauma that, at the time, wrecked me, but now that I think about it, was barely a drop in a bucket. The picture's all forehead and awkward, but I like it. Obviously, I was happy.

A kid I went to high school with killed himself a few weeks before this was taken. I wasn't particularly close with him but he was the sort of guy I thought had it all figured out. He hung out with everyone, his dad let everyone party at his house and he was super talented. It all got messed up, the way that small towns tend to destroy only the best and brightest, and he put a gun in his mouth outside a bar. I talked to a girl I went to high school with a few days later and she said probably the smartest thing I've ever heard anyone say about suicide: "I swear, if people would wait for like, fifteen minutes, everything can change."

Current headspace is by definition bizarre these days. I’ve been hit with a few things I wasn’t quite ready for. If I wasn’t already feeling so bizarre, they wouldn’t bother me as much, but as I am, it makes things even more cloudy. I’ve an aunt in the hospital with a brain aneurism and an ex-boyfriend getting married. Wow. When you put those two in the same sentence, it certainly gives you some perspective. It’s like throwing rocks into a tornado, still hurts, but the rocks really aren’t what do the damage.

I know I’m where I need to be. And I really am a nice girl. I probably just need fifteen minutes.

PS. No, I'm not going off the deep end. Come on, I'm fully aware it's really all just #whitegirlproblems. The weather in Norman right now is too glorious to be grumpy. Patio furniture is my favorite right now.