Marathon

Sometimes,

You don't actually have words to say other than

"YES."

And of course, now is one of those times.

I dearly, truly, love my friends.

Saturday night parties,

And games of "Hide the Pineapple".

(Which, in fact, we did buy the pineapple, like good children.)

I cannot describe with only textual words

The beautiful, mind-boggling joy

Of knowing these people.

To fully capture every once of rad,

You really just have to experience it.

You have to live every little sub-party,

Every laughing fit and inside joke,

Every perilous late-night round of pineapple hiding.

Everything that binds us together

And makes us happy.

You have to dodge Meijer employees,

Have one of your best friends lie and make rather convincing retching sounds,

Dance and sing and fake propose with a pretty fake flower.

You have to wear glow-stick headbands, and mardi gras beads.

Otherwise, you just don't get it.

You don't see what we see,

You don't know why we grin like fools when we're all together.

Comprehension is impossible if you don't do this sort of thing.

And who cares how many exams you have this week,

How many things you have to study.

How many sucky things happened to you in a week,

When you're with these people,

On another glorious Saturday,

You can't help but just be happy.

I really don't know the meaning of 'sad'

When I'm with these folks.

It's so awesome.

It's really comparable to flying.

And it's 1:13,

And I'm not sleepy.

But I should sleep,

Because I'm sure these dreams are gonna be just as rad.

But no, no, I shall wait.

And tell you a short fictional short of rant-story.

Just because I want to.

How about that.

So that poetry reading I told you about?

The one that started today and goes until tomorrow?

I made up a cute little scenario in my head,

Of how it would have gone.

Right down to what we wore.

(I have no life, mind you.)

Yes, yes,

You and I would go.

On Thursday, I would say casually, "There's a pretty rad-sounding poetry thinger going on in Columbus Saturday.

You- *nonchalantly* We should go together. *Blushes and looks at up* You know, if that isn't awkward or anything?

Me- Oh? I think it'd be fine, you know, if you want to...

You- So, I'll pick you up at seven?

Me- Seven it is.

And then today would roll around, and we'd be all spiffied up,

I'd wear my bird dress. You'd be wearing jeans, and some dark-colored band shirt.

We'd smile awkwardly at each other, because, after all, this is one of those "Is this a date?" moments.

But of course, neither of us would want to admit it.

So we ride along in your car,

You'd play some strange band I've never heard of,

And we would have several lovely conversations, punctuated by non-awkward silences.

We'd arrive, and walk around laughing,

Go to this poetry thinger, and listen and look sophisticated,

While not being so at all,

And it would be lovely.

I have a feeling you'd drink coffee, and I tea, and we'd listen to poetry,

And chatter quietly.

And then, here's the really, horribly, awfully cheesy part:

We (or really, you) would come to a sudden realization, and we'd silently clasp hands.

And it would be great.

But that's silly.

So instead,

I had real-life super rad fun.

And it was, actually, super-uber-wickedly rad.

Because my friends "are the shit".

Really, they're awesome.

Y'all should meet them someday.

Adieu!

Goodnight!

I love you!