Once again, words fail me.

Not written words, as those always come, somehow, but verbalizations, the pesky, brain-bypassing kind, the kind that pour out of my mouth indiscriminately when I am full of nervous energy and/or am hiding what I really want to communicate.

If I were to spend an entire, ideal day with someone, I would choose something exhilarating and exhausting in the morning, followed by food, and then napping sporadically and lazily together throughout the afternoon. I love napping with friends. People, even. I love how people look through my eyelashes, sideways and sleepy. The quiet warmth of them. But maybe there's something else that I love, too, and it's that napping together is a buffer against word-vomit. It's a way of spending an afternoon in quiet proximity without feeling the need to splatter all over everything with oddly placed tangential anecdotes. I am very good at oddly placed tangential anecdotes. But there is a lot more to be said for well-placed silence.

Something I've been trying to divert lately by anecdote-splattering is saying goodbye to everyone. I think that if I just keep talking, I won't have to leave. They won't have to leave.

I blabbered on and on about the transience of CU email addresses when Chell and Brendan dropped me off at my house for the last time. When Andrew left for Madison, I talked about how we were both from the Midwest and that we had the same home base. I pointed out the place in the neighbor's yard where hard-boiled eggs were thrown as Dan was standing on the porch, getting ready to go to work. This is stupid. This is all so stupid. As it's happening, my brain is going 'shut up shut up now just shut up you're ruining it you're acting so bizarre' but it's too late. And once they're gone my brain is going 'all you wanted to say is that you're going to miss them because that's all you mean with all your drivel so just say it' but it is also, then, too late.