Love
I know this is stupid. I miss you. I miss you so so much. I have been staring at your pictures; you were always famous for your pictures. You are better at documenting things than I am, and you are better at keeping track. They were all essentially the same- you in heels and red lipstick, smiling with the girls who stay tan year-round. And then I came to the pictures I understand: the homeplace. Just look; it is a stark contrast from the pink and blonde of your sorority life. We are messy, we are dirty, and overweight, and blemished, and we have scars on our arms and look at our faces, Bling. Look at how authentic we are. Look at how we cling to one another. Look at what we have.
I can't tell if I forgot that or if just put it away to make room for other things, but tonight I feel the pull of our friends again. I need you. You are my best friend, my sister, probably the love of my life. I ache for Lincoln County, the patchwork hills at Boneyard Holler, laughing until we can't move, top down, our room, and, of course, your perfect perfect love for everyone. I can't be you, Bling, but remember that I, too, try to love. I try. I get a feeling in my heart and in my bones. Don't count me out just yet.
I can't tell if I forgot that or if just put it away to make room for other things, but tonight I feel the pull of our friends again. I need you. You are my best friend, my sister, probably the love of my life. I ache for Lincoln County, the patchwork hills at Boneyard Holler, laughing until we can't move, top down, our room, and, of course, your perfect perfect love for everyone. I can't be you, Bling, but remember that I, too, try to love. I try. I get a feeling in my heart and in my bones. Don't count me out just yet.