I went to the dermatologist's office a week ago and it was maybe the best day of my life. He prescribed me a tube of miracle gel that takes all of the sadness away from my skin (except, he might've seen like, wayyyy too much of me because those sheet-robes can only do so much, but it was worth it).
I'm going through this weird stage where I'm trying to muster up the courage to make an OBGYN appointment without getting too freaked out by it. My best girlfriends and I have an ongoing group text message conversation that pretty much only addresses menstrual cycle abnormalities, trustworthy gynecologists, and bridesmaid dresses. Rated "M" for "Man, I'm glad I have girlfriends".
I don't know that I've mentioned my cold sore situation, but I've got one. And if you struggle with this, girrrrrrrl, I GET YOU. I got really sick with the virus when I was in the sixth grade, and ever since, it has been fever blister after fever blister. So bad, in fact, that I have to use a numbing cream and I take pills prescribed by my dentist.
Why am I giving you a brief rundown of my medical history? Because I am, only now, starting to realize just how expensive it is to keep myself alive. That magic tube from the dermatologist? Retail price: $736. With health insurance, it cost me nothing. My lip cream runs about $60 per 5mm. I have three tubes and two refills, which would cost well over $1200. With health insurance, I literally pay zero dollars. Last week, I had an ear infection that hurt like hell. The doctor gave me a ten day dosage of Amoxicillin. I have no idea what stuff like that costs to supply, but I'm going to go ahead and guess that it's not cheap. Didn't cost me a dime.
I can't stop thinking about how I'm just a kid! Still on my dad's insurance plan! It has never even crossed my mind that one day, I'll need a job with big, hearty benefits. A meaty salary. Vacation days. I have to buy a new car before next year. I have to start paying off student loans come January. What do people do in these situations? How do they get it together? HOW THE _____ AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT PANIC?
It's grow-cer-ies and steep mountain trails with him. Introductions to new people usually go, "I talk loud and a lot--I'm Devin" which is as much absurd as it is true. He could watch professional bull riding all day, every day, and has a bizarre attachment to grape soda from a can. We're going to Yellowstone over the summer and I half-promised to hike a mountain with him because the other day, he took me along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail and turned into this reflective, peaceful sort of creature who knew which trees were Junipers, and which trees were not. This newly revealed facet of him settles me, mutes my mind.
We're different in one too many ways. He's still not into Jackson Polluck-splashed canvas, and I'll never fall dead over a Black Keys album. I assume I'll find my niche kissing sticky jam hands around the time he disappears off into middle age and we won't have business one with another anymore. But, for now, we've decided to navigate the lonely years together until we figure out how to let go of the quiet fondness they carry.
One of my favorite memories of him, and I'll never forget it, was last January, at an art gala. I can't, for the life of me, recall the details of the dress I wore, but I do remember the way the words formed in his mouth when he took me by the fingertips and said, out loud, that I was ravishing.
We learn things in the lonely years. Mostly, we learn who the right ones aren't. We learn that the wrong ones will say the right things, and that the right things are the words we fight through the mess to hear. We beat the charade when we find the right one to say the right thing, but I don't know. I've yet to find the right one, so this is really just a shot in the dark.
What I do know is that we can't possibly understand the significance of the right thing until we've heard it said by the wrong one.
Sunday, I woke up with the world's most annoying sore throat. Yesterday, I was so terribly ill that I laid in bed all day and didn't make it to school. Today, my life felt like it would end, but I had to get out of bed and go take a test, anyway. I didn't make it to my British lit class because my nose was running like a river and I was 48% sure my head was going to explode. I came home, took a nap, and woke up with a fever. A damn fever.
Please send all the prayers my way because my sister is coming into town next week for spring break, and I just HAVE to kiss some babies.