Big thanks to Thought Catalog for giving me my first widespread exposure. Readers, be sure to venture on over to their site every once and a while, there is truly something for everyone there.
The day of my graduation, I was sitting in my nearly empty room. On my desk was a copy of Siddhartha, some sheets of blank looseleaf, and a pen. There was a grad party going on downstairs, and the pulsating music and nostalgic cheers to friends-since-freshman-year shook the floor beneath my feet. My hands were shaking too, but not from the blaring Disclosure remix or from the overzealous tequila shots. Rather, my uneasiness was a result of a lack a sleep, a sense of post-grad uncertainty that was beginning to manifest itself, and a particularly unfortunate and acute case of writer’s block.
As is the case with many stories, there was also a girl behind it all. But this girl was not my Muse, nor was she my last-chance-now-or-never crush. She was the sort of friend I’d spent boozy nights with, looking up at the stars and feeling at once fragile and…
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