Black Holes

A week ago Saturday found me aimlessly scrolling the Internet. And the new timeline feature on Facebook (which I was at first very much against, but then finally gave in to because of my uncontrollable lust for a cover photo. I also wanted to delete all embarrassing status updates and pictures from previous years before they became public) is truly conducive to heavy duty creeping. I found myself on Marianne's profile (a friend from North Carolina that I still keep in touch with) meandering between the months in 2010. During that period I wasted endless amounts of time, therefore explaining the multiple wall posts from me adorning her profile. 

In November 2010 I coated her profile with videos to make up for our lack of skype dates. One of them broke my heart, and I teared up watching it. For one, I looked so sick. Unbelievably skinny, I didn't even sound like myself. I could hear the desparation in my own voice as I explained to her how my life was falling apart and that I dreaded moving back home. 

I don't remember leaving those videos. I don't remember the weekend plans that I talked about. I don't remember eating meals at the BLUU. I don't remember my sorority chapter meetings. I can't even recall initiation. Those women are supposed to be my lifelong sisters, but I don't remember the ritual necessary to bind us together. 

I don't know how to be friends with my Frogs because I don't remember how we interacted in the first place. That is what I hate the most about Addison's. It stole half a year from me. I deserve another second half of 2010. I wish I could redo A Very Lucky Girl, horned frog style.


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