I'm sitting on Luke's stoop listening to Nickey's birthday track, it's pretty loud. Drinking an Outlaw IPA not because I'm crazy about it, but it's a pretty good IPA and I taste IPAs all day sometimes, but because it's from Garden City, and made by an acquaintance from highschool, I never had a crush on him, but I guess I'm trying to be pre-nostalgic for Idaho because I truly am leaving it tomorrow. This song doesn't make me nostalgic, just makes me think of Nickey but I'm taking her with me. I mean she's taking me with her. We're taking each other with each other. I'm going to Dad's for a final Dad dinner, and I'll maybe sell the dogcrate for $50. I made $55 selling my synthesizer to Britt. I was going to sell it to another exboyfriend, but I like Britt better. Maybe it's because he was never my exboyfriend. I think I like the music he makes more. No I know. A giant man in a BSU tee walked by with a golden on a leash. The golden was wetfurred, and peed on the tree in front of Luke's cute yellow house. Ida didn't chase it. But I was gripping her by her aqua bandanna. It's not too grubby for a bandanna. For a dog bandanna. Or even a girl bandanna. I said goodbye to Brittany. To Chad, to Gray, to John Shinn. I wanted to say goodbye to John Shinn again. I've said enough goodbyes. Everyone's like, Why aren't you gone yet. And we're like, We know. Because we've got to pack the car up, and I've got to clean my little messes I've messed Luke's cute yellow house with. But then, maybe I won't. Maybe it will become real to us. Maybe I'm more excited than they are. Maybe later I'll write long words about long skins to miss. Long bodies pulled tightly down over a butter yellow bedsheet, long feet dangling. Can you dangle straight. I have hours left of goodbyes, I know. I will be saying goodbye forever, I know.
