A story about goodnightlila
The story Avi just wrote about me is very true and it made me so unbelievably happy that I can no longer spell corectly. I am waiting for her to meet me at one of our favorite places, The Beehive, right now.
We first started getting really close when she decided to sit next to me in our poetry class in ninth grade. She was in the middle of an infatuation with some skinny kid at our school at the time, and I listened to her whenever she needed to talk about him and she listened to me when I needed to talk to her about my infatuation of the moment. Avi is always there to listen to me, even when I have nothing new to complain about.
Her mind is so open that you could not fit the world and all the outrageous shit that happens inside. You could fit all of outer space in side, as well. Speaking of which, she is a space cadet. I have been good friends with her for not even a tenth of my short life time, but she shares more than half of my most precious and fondest memories with me.
I like to think we helped eachother change into who we are today—which is significantly better than who we were when we first met. When we hang out late at night and just lie next to eachother and talk about whatever is on our minds, she can help me put our CRAZY COMPLICATED feelings into words.
Who would I be without her?




