Oh, Ernest.

Last year, I fell in love with a man named Ernest Hemingway. Well, his books are the real thing that stole my heart. Yes, he was a womanizer to some extent. Yes, he committed suicide. But my favorite work of his, A Moveable Feast, always seems to make me laugh inside and feel all the more intelligent, or more whitty, at least. Here's a few of my favorite quotes from A Moveable Feast:

"The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits." (page 49)

"It made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face...and I thought, you con man conning me with your con...Now you will con me. Con not, that thou be not conned." (page 127)

"Scott was a man then who looked like a boy with a face between handsome and pretty...the very wavy hair and the mouth. The mouth worried you until you knew him and then it worried you more." (page 149)

Oh, Ernest, you really are a gem. Too bad you had to hate life enough to take your own. We could have been good friends, you and I...

So I am now at coffee shop on a Sunday night, by myself. It's an odd feeling to be alone sometimes, after having been socially active for long periods of time. Especially after this last week of school, where my classmates and I tried to spend every minute with each other. It's like driving a car after having been unable to drive for a few months. Or reuniting with an old friend after a few years of being apart. The feeling is one of love, yet there is a bit of doubtful awkwardness that sort of lingers, than quickly flees after a few minutes of testing the breaks, or after remembering how you and the old friend connect so well. It's nice to be with you again, Old Self. We haven't been alone for a few weeks.