Save tomorrow.

I can't follow you there.

Just close your eyes

and sing for me.

I will hear you.

Always near you.

And I'll give you the words,

just sing for me.

You are the only thing in life that I got right.

Yellowcard, I absolutely love you.

Hard work really does pay off.

For the first time in my 8 years of swimming, I'm not only going to districts, I'm going to states.

States.

At State College with thousands of people.

I remember you saying at the beginning of the season, "I think this relay team can qualify for districts, and place at states. I really do."

I doubted it so much. But I remember thinking inside, man, I really hope we do.

And look where I'm standing now.

The top 9 go on, and we placed 10th. I was bummed, but let it go. Thought, oh, it doesn't matter if we don't go.

But then that relay team got disqualified.

"You guys are going. Go get your awards!"

Don't assume things too quickly. Don't jump to conclusions right away.

Don't stop believing.

A painless 'hello.'

It was just something so simple.

You glanced, looked away, and immediately faced me again.

Smiled.

"Hey"

With the little wave thing.

I'm not sure why I can't stop thinking about it. I haven't talked to you in years, and you would probably be the last person I'd think to talk to.

It's dumb, really. That I keep thinking this over.

But I'm impressed.

Maybe the world isn't such a rude place, after all.

Wow. I love how I support you in so many miscellaneous activities, yet when I qualify for districts, you don't want to come. At. All.

I went to your cross country meets. I cheered for you at basketball games. And when you shot 6 points in that one game, you didn't realize how proud I was of you. That you were my brother. You live for that sport, and you finally accomplished your goal. I gave you a hug.

I suffered through your baseball games.

I suffered through your freezing cold soccer games at 9 IN THE MORNING.

And when you were at the Y that one day, playing basketball with your friends during one of my swim meets, you couldn't even watch me swim for 30 seconds.

And now you've decided to not come to districts either, even though you know it means so much to me.

You worked hard for your dream, and I was there to watch it.

I worked even harder for mine, yet you don't have any desire to watch me live it.

You don't realize how disappointed I am in you.

I'm running out of things to say.

Well, maybe not running out, but all of my thoughts are collecting up in my brain and by the time I have a chance to write them down, I draw a blank.

I'm starting to wonder if that's okay.

Maybe it's okay if I keep my thoughts to myself.

I don't need to have the whole world read it.

Was I writing to impress?

No, I was writing for myself.

And I still want to.

But it won't be as often.

I think the same things over and over.

I need a change of perspective.

Then maybe things will change.

I think last night was the first night in 9 years that I've thrown up.

Ugh.

It makes me think how terribly some kids live now a days. The ones with cancer or diseases, who can't help themselves, they just go on day by day like it's normal. Puking their guts out everyday. I can't imagine living like that.

They'll never share the experience of being healthy.

It gets me every time.

I'm currently reading Message in a Bottle by Nicholas Sparks.

I want to go to the beach, write a meaningful letter, place it in a bottle, and throw it into the ocean. From there, I want someone to find it. I want that person to keep it. I want them to keep it a secret and keep it to themselves. I want them to read it when they need inspiration. I want to somehow altar their life, even though I haven't met them.

Something along those lines.

I need a thrill in this life.

Maybe I could even send an anonymous letter. Put it in a random person's locker at school.

I just need to do something that'll make me feel nervous.

It'd be okay if I was the person who found a random letter. Who received something in my locker. In the mail. Anything.

I need a thrill.

Something to light up this dull, everyday-routine life I've been living for the past 5 months.