miss

I have less than three hours to write 27 posts!!! I can do this!!! Crunch time!

Instead of writing what might be delusional posts, I should be writing a novel, yeah? Or maybe a short story. Or poetry or a one-act play or a cover letter or an apology letter. Something else. Channeling my energy into other writing projects may be beneficial. May. But I feel such a sense of accomplishment (in the short term) with blog posts. Type type type, click "publish," done. I need to develop patience and perseverance. Writing a novel or a short story or even a poem will not take twenty minutes. It takes time. But don't get me started on time again... No really, don't.

What do I miss? I miss college, sometimes. I miss him and him and her, sometimes. I miss summer, always. I miss not being iron deficient. I never miss not having a menstrual cycle, although I should, I think. I miss being "Hippie Meg." I miss theater and adrenaline rushes and cake with ice cream. I miss conversations in the middle of the night with nothing but the moonlight and secrets to illuminate our way. I miss what was never lost.

What do I not miss? I do not miss loud people living above my head. I do not miss cold caves littered with regret and, occasionally, the empty shells of snails. I do not miss midterms and parking lots and inappropriate professors. I do not miss the feeling of being trapped in an already failed relationship. I do not miss cigarettes. I do not miss him, even though that is a lie. I do not miss what was never lost.

Okay. Twenty-six posts to go. But for now I go, go to the kitchen to make some bread to pass the time and avoid missing anything, anyone.