If You're Out There by Katy Loutzenhiser

Author:Katy Loutzenhiser
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-01-12T16:00:00+00:00

Nĭ hăo.

Me again. (Who else would it be?)

DONGGGG-GEE-DONG-GEE-CCCCHHHHHH

See above for the soundtrack of my brain. It’s like a looming question mark, and I seriously can’t stop hearing it. I suppose it’s a nice break from Amanda’s tunes, though.

“When You’re Smiling” is competing for space in this tortured mind, though I only sort of know the words. Something something, repeat repeat, “The whole world smiles with you . . .” If we’re sticking with this chipper theme, could I at least put in a request, Mr. DJ? How ’bout a little “Happy” by Pharrell? Actually, no. I was incredibly immune to how overplayed that song got, but Amanda would find a way to destroy it. It’s the mother-flipping jam. (If anyone disagrees, we can fight. This is a hill I will die on.)

Non Sequitur I Feel Compelled to Share:

When I was a kid, any time I started a journal I was always vaguely concerned it would wind up published for posterity. What if there was something really embarrassing in there? Like how I thought “approximately” meant “exactly” for like . . . years? Until Ben finally cracked up and told me? Or how I spent all of third and fourth grade convinced I was bound to convert to Judaism whenever Adam Eidelman and I inevitably married? (He was super nice, and he always shared the matzo from his school lunch.) TO BE CLEAR: if anyone’s wondering, this journal is SO NOT THAT KIND OF THING. I just need to get stuff out. No posterity, please. ☺

Anyway. I’ve had a day. Days.

AHAHAHA that is an understatement.

Ben and I aren’t in what you’d call a *great place* at the moment. It’s been a whole lot of either fights or long stretches of not talking. Even during our less prickly times when he’s come down, I’ve kept the chitchat to a minimum. But we can’t stop talking now. That’ll just make things worse.

I was decent about it today. He came bearing muffins and a new textbook he’d picked up for me. He said he talked to Zan last night, and that she was worried. He tends to overshare these days, I’ve noticed. Weirdly enough, I think he misses me.

“What’d you tell her?” I asked.

“Mentioned boarding school. Alluded to some changes. Think you really hurt that friend of yours.”

I refused to let his words affect me. “C’est possible,” I said, with a little French shrug. I couldn’t help but complain a smidge. Told him I wished the muffin had been blueberry. “Always blueberry.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” he said. I’ll pump the brakes for a bit.

I’m now officially switching from Mandarin to German. I’m lacking my usual determination with the former. It’s too damn hard. German grammar is admittedly bananas, but I think I’ll have more luck. Plus, I already enjoy shouting, “SCHEISSE!” when I’m angry, and I’d love to be able to fold that into a full-on German rant.

I need more expletives in my life.

Besides anger, I’ve also been feeling this, like . . . aching guilt.

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