I sat down on my bed with tear stained eyes. My mom and I just had another pointless argument. I thought I could finally get through to her. I guess I was wrong. To distract myself, I called up my boyfriend. We talked about our pictures, as usual, and how much we hated them, as usual. He tried to cheer me up and make me laugh, as usual, but I was still sad, as usual. He did make me laugh though. He always made me laugh.
As we were talking, I couldn't help but drift away from our conversation and climb into my thought spiral of ideas. I thought of brilliant people who would understand me. The kind only found in books. I had recently gotten a couple new books, but haven't found the time or inspiration to open the pages to their...