Now i am going to write about nice things and park dates and

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As he lied down on me, using my lap as his pillow, I didn't know what to feel like. But you must have felt safe  nice, as you nibbled on my fingers, gifting kisses on my wrists. It made me nervous, anxious even, but okay at the same time. I will admit, I am not used to those affections. I mean, I don't even like hugs, and hand holding kind of stresses me out (in a good way). As we talked about things that mattered, I felt confident. And I even started to feel safe too.
I took a picture of the day, of the night sky and the park and you. A while ago, I realized that I forget things too easily, and if I could whip out a camera and remember the times I want to, then that is what I am going to have to do. Although my camera isn't real, I take my hands and make a CLICK noise, and know that this memory will be stored for when I want to see it. I like this memory.
I told my father I have a blog, I want him to read it. He is always the person I send my papers to, my poem to, and I have no fear that he will lie to me. He is a professional, and since I was little I have showed him my stories. Calling me out when I don't put work into something, and gifting me praise when I try my best, he is a talented writer. I know, because I always get at least a 94% on my papers. Boo ya. I would suck even worse at college if it was not for him bribing me with pizza after class. So come on dad, read my blog. (I love you pops).
---Megs

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