Just a quick note for the day:Today I've been thinking a lot about people that I've been missing around the country, nay, the world. And there are a lot of them! I know legion of folks and I won't forget any of you. I can't. I try, but my memory is relentless. Blessing and a curse. Anyways, for those people that I don't want to forget, I will think back fondly and melancholily* about them, and inevitably this is the thought that always surfaces: "That little bastard better miss me back!" But not like in a cutesy, nostalgic way. This thought is like jealous Zeus that kills all the lesser-god thoughts that are in his way. Doesn't matter who it is I'm missing. Even my little two-year old nephew is an unknowing victim of my violent love. For him, Zeus also adds, "and I better be his favorite aunt! Little smiley jerk."
Who am I? But I can't be alone in this, right?
If I made greeting cards, I'd get rid of all the, "Miss you!" and "Thinking of you!" mumbo-jumbo and replace them with anecdotes along the lines of: (outside of the card) "Sure do miss you..." (inside of the card) "...but more importantly, I hope there's a gaping, throbbing hole in your heart that keeps you up at night and just gets bigger and bigger because I'm gone." or maybe, "...but more importantly it would be great if you've lost all hope in the future being anywhere near as blissful as your time with me." or "...but more importantly I hope you need therapy. Lots of it." That kind of stuff. It's ugly, but it's the truth. And the truth will set you free?
The fact of the matter is, that honestly, from the bottom of my heart, I hope that each and every one of you are in pain. Moderate to extreme. No, just moderate at most.
And I hope it is because of me.
Sincerely (hope the sight of my name is like a kick in the chest),
Kassie
Holler back, lovers!
*new word...also could be a new breed of flower, perhaps with petals that stay within a neutral color palette; dull yellows, sad grays, the color of teardrops, etc. They skip blooming and go straight from the pod to wilting because, why bother?
