Sometimes life seems rather fickle. Or maybe it's just me. I'm probably the one fluctuating. Today I've just been thinking about how strange it is that I live in a house that I haven't seen all of. Apparently there is a sun porch in back? I've lived here a month, and I've only been in the backyard once, for about five seconds. I also think it's bizarre that I think about people who were the most important people in my life at least once a day, but I hardly ever talk to them. I lived with people for more than a year, and I only know the basics of their lives. It's weird that sometimes I have a hard time remembering some of my roommates' names. I saw them nearly every day for crying out loud! I hate that I don't know what my friends' houses look like or if it feels like home. I don't know their day to day schedules or how they feel about things. I guess I just wanted you all to know that I love you. And you probably don't know [wish I was better at that]. But I do. I really do.
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