One summer, probably nearly ten years ago (before he became a redneck drunk and I became a snobby intelligentsia), my cousin and I were playing cards and decided to play War, the game that never, ever ends. Only in this case, we changed the rules so that the suits were ranked from highest to lowest and there would never be a draw, spades-hearts-diamonds-clubs. Basically it was stupid because whoever was dealt the ace of spades in the beginning had to win the whole thing eventually, and the game just became a matter of time. "You might be a big fish in a little pond -- it doesn't mean you've won, because along may come a bigger one." Second best, always. But even though the Ace of Spades is out there, who cares? Because I sure haven't met him yet.

I met my first best friend when I was little - very little, so little I can't even remember how old I was. I don't really remember meeting him, either; it's just sort of a half-memory, like the dream I had about being in the red lake with whales trying to eat me. I thought it was real for the longest time, until I finally realized it was an impossible situation. So I guess that was my first dream. Apparently I went out and found my friend one day at the park, and from there our mothers became best friends too, so I always saw him. I remember his house and what sort of things the family posted on their refrigerator, and all of the great toys in the basement and their pool in the backyard. But I moved away before I turned five. He moved too, and now that I've come back to that town to live I was just thinking about him again. I thought about how I used to rollerblade on the sidewalks outside of the architecture college when I was sitting on them, sketching in class the other day, and I wonder if my dad took the same sidewalks to class and if my grandparents walked under the same trees. Then I blink and pretend that the past selves of all these people I know have taken over my perspective, without knowing who I am of course because I haven't been born yet. Or maybe my mother walking her little girl up to the library to check out children's books one day blinked and was alone, suddenly wearing converses and keeping curly hair out of her eyes. Sometimes she realizes it's me and sometimes she doesn't because I get distracted and the real me has to take over again. But I remember her telling me after we moved - in a serious voice, if I remember correctly - that God told her I was going to marry my first best friend. What am I supposed to make of that? In fact, why would a mother ever say something of the sort to her young daughter? I don't know if she had cancer yet or not - but if she did, and she really believed this premonition herself, then maybe she wanted me to know before it was too late. But then again, maybe she didn't have it yet and was kidding with me, thinking I'd be too young to remember it later. Maybe I was too little to distinguish between seriousness and a joke. But that would be one of the first things I would ask her, if I could. I wish it WERE true though. I wish he would come back here himself and I wouldn't have to worry about the future anymore. Of course I don't think I believe in premonitions, because if they existed, they would take the uncertainty out of life. And uncertainty is integral to the human experience. Then again, I'm still living with uncertainty even having heard that. So maybe it IS true - or will be, rather. Either way, I just don't know.

"The Moon's entry into your 12th House of Secrets today creates a bit of a dilemma for you. You are pulled between telling someone how you feel and saying nothing at all. Ultimately, you are better off if you reveal some of your hidden feelings, but it's probably not a good idea to ramble on incessantly about issues that do not concern others. Pay close attention to what you're saying and use your discretion to know when to stop." I always read these at the end of the day so it doesn't affect my behavior in any way. But I was about to confess this morning; I was about to tell everyone in my church group about my problem... It was the perfect opportunity but I just couldn't do that to myself. In the end I just said, "Look. There's something keeping me from God. I know exactly what it is, too; I'm just not willing to let it go right now." Why? Because I'll get FAT!!! This is the most horrible cycle - how does ANYONE escape? I want to get rid of the poison but I don't want to get rid of the skinny. I want to be thin to be attractive, but I know I can't hope to attract anyone worthwhile without God's intervention... and that person wouldn't care what I looked like, anyway... I just don't know. I am NOT a fundamentalist Christian in any form or fashion, but it's almost enough to make me believe in demon possession (in a strictly metaphorical sense). Ugh now I sound just like my mother. Ugh. I never want to be like her.

Hi there, I just want everyone to know something: I WAS RIGHT. I was right I was right I was right I was SO right about us! You don't know that I'm going on and on and on about you on a blog right now and you'd probably find it rather creepy, but I am and I WAS RIGHT! I KNEW that you would say something to me - at least, you would if you felt the same way. And then that beautiful song came on my iPod, from that scene in Memoirs of a Geisha that reminds me of you where Sayuri and the Chairman first speak their feelings for one another and every time I watch it, I feel what they feel... like everything's out in the open and we're both about to fall off of a cliff, we don't know what's beneath us but we have each other so we trust that it must be something beautiful... What a gorgeous cello. And you did. I knew it all along. I knew from the very first moment I saw you that there was something in our future, be it good or bad. And I was right - we are going places, my dear. My hands are shaking so I've got to stop.

"What did become Of my heart when I first saw thee? I brought a heart into the room, But from the room I carried none with me."

I need help... PLEASE help me... I AM SO FAT AND I HATE BEING IN MY OWN BODY SO MUCH THAT I CANNOT LIVE WITH MYSELF. And YES, I KNOW THAT THIS IS AN EATING DISORDER. I'm not a MORON. And NO, I do NOT want to be cured. The only CURE for me is to be skinny again, like I used to be! At least I was a SKINNY anorexic back then. What am I now? A fat anorexic? Can you IMAGINE being anything more horrific??? Oh my God, oh God, God, I can't face people like this anymore... I don't know what to do... I can't lose weight, not at all, not with exercising and eating right or anything so no one knows, and they all think I'm fat, too, and say so without even suspecting what it does to me inside... IT MAKES ME WANT TO DIE. I can't even look at people anymore. The first thing I ever see is the fat and I am so damn sick of it. I am sick to death and I don't even have anything to SHOW for it.