I finally read my pen pal’s letter today. I’ve been saving it for after I did my homework readings, but I caved. I absolutely loved hearing from her. Reading her letters is like a nice cup of hot chocolate: so comfortable. 

Our lives take completely different routes. I took the academic path and she took the dirt road, finding adventures when they arise or making them herself. I love that about her. She lives the life I imagine my ideal heroine would lead. Adventurous, kind, and self-driven. And her letters make me feel like I’m right by her side.

I had a bad day today. It was the first day back to law school. Yes, classes were challenging but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that I still feel like I don’t belong here. And I don’t mean scholastically, I mean socially. Its not like I don’t talk to people. I do! I laugh and converse and things are fine. But I’m never invited to anything, I never know where to sit, and most of all, I never really feel quite cared for.

Man, you guys are probably judging me so hard. You probably see someone they see: someone shy, nice, and boring, boring, boring. But the truth is, I’ve been dying for a good conversation. Not about politics, or law, or fashion and art. (Not that you can’t have them that way) But I want one of those honest to goodness, I’m-finally-getting-something-out-of-my-life conversations. I want the all-night-don’t-keep-track-of-time conversations. I want the conversations that make me feel so human and humble, that I feel like I’m starting all over again. Or maybe that’s what I really want. To start all over again.

As you can see, I’m not so good at small talk. I like getting to the gist of it: Why are we here and what are we going to do about it? And let me tell you, its not so easy making friends that way.

Except for my pen pal. Its probably because there’s something so intimate about writing letters. The way a person talks in their written exchanges is extremely specific to themselves. Its like a fingerprint except that it describes so much more of you. So once you find someone whose letter-writing is similar to yours, it almost feels like each of their words can sweep you away; it becomes nothing short of prose. And that’s why I’ve missed her so much. And that’s why I’ve had such a bad day.