BooksBarbecue
Back Dear Universe Save as PDF
Contents (64)
  1. Copyright
  2. Contents
  3. Prologue
  4. {OCTOBER}
  5. Days ’til prom: Eons
  6. 1
  7. SECOND HALF OF SENIOR YEAR {JANUARY}
  8. Days ’til prom: 103
  9. 2
  10. Days ’til prom: Still 103
  11. 3
  12. Days ’til prom: 100
  13. 4
  14. Days ’til prom: Still 100
  15. 5
  16. Days ’til prom: 89
  17. {FEBRUARY}
  18. Days ’til prom: 83
  19. 6
  20. Days ’til prom: Still 83
  21. 7
  22. Days ’til prom: 65
  23. Days ’til prom: 64
  24. 8
  25. Days ’til prom: 61
  26. Days ’til prom: 57
  27. 9
  28. {MARCH}
  29. Days ’til prom: 51
  30. 10
  31. Days ’til prom: Still 51
  32. 11
  33. Days ’til prom: 50
  34. 12
  35. Days ’til prom: 49
  36. Days ’til prom: 48
  37. 13
  38. Days ’til prom: Still 48
  39. 14
  40. Days ’til prom: Seems irrelevant now
  41. 15
  42. Days ’til graduation: 31
  43. 16
  44. Days ’til graduation: 30
  45. 17
  46. {APRIL}
  47. Days ’til graduation: 17
  48. 18
  49. Days ’til graduation: 11
  50. Days ’til graduation: 6
  51. 19
  52. Days ’til graduation: 5
  53. 20
  54. Days ’til graduation: Still 4
  55. 21
  56. Days ‘til graduation: Still 2
  57. 22
  58. Days ’til graduation: Still 2, but minus a few hours
  59. Epilogue
  60. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  61. PRAISE FOR
  62. Dear Universe
  63. PRAISE FOR
  64. Love & Other Carnivorous Plants

Dear Universe,

Could the half-life of the best time of my life be forever?

image

Days ’til prom: 64

Things aren’t going well in the college essay department. No offense to my brain, but holy shit, it is a barren wasteland. I’ve been able to sweet-talk Evelyn into giving me more time, but I don’t know how long my honey-dripped e-mails will work.

Frantic text exchange with Abigail from my bed:

This college essay is going to be the death of me C

A JUST DO IT AND SEND YOUR COLLEGE APPS IN ALREADY

Last night I dreamt that Gene put on a parade to ask me to prom. I sat upon a float-sized condom. C

A You’re obsessed

Sorry, rom-coms have set me up for a lifetime of unrealistic expectations C

A Ok bye Cham you’re doing your essay now

Ugh fine C

Ok here I go C

I’m turning my phone off now C

I’m serious C

Don’t text me ’cause I won’t answer C

’Cause I’ll be working. C

Hello? C

DID YOU SERIOUSLY FREAKING LEAVE ME? C

Dear Universe,

I just want to know what in the name of kegs and libraries I’m supposed to write a college essay about. We want to know the real you. Do you, though, random college admissions person #8099? Do you really want to know that I feel kinda stupid, even though I should feel all liberated, when I take baths and explore those random body parts that Teen Vogue says are open for “my pleasure”? Do you really want to know that I cried harder when Jack died in Titanic than when my own grandmother died in her bed, because at least she was old, whereas Jack, JACK HAD SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR. And lastly, do you really want to know that I throw pennies away because it seems like more work to actually find my wallet than to pretend one penny could ever make a dollar of difference in a world where everything costs so much more than we know? No, you don’t. You don’t want to know that I haven’t volunteered in some random country and I didn’t start a fund so that three-legged lemurs could learn a second language.… You don’t want to know the real me. I don’t even want to know the real me. So what do I do? I’m drawing blank after blank here. Send me your rough draft, Universe? I won’t show anyone, I promise. As usual, it’ll just be between you and me.

After a lot of hours spent making not a lot of progress, I put my sneakers on. If a few days go by and I don’t run, my body develops cobwebs. It’s not spiders that spin the silk; it’s anger and other things that crawl. Running with Gene helps, but I also have to run by myself, preferably at midnight. It feels like a secret that I’m telling and keeping. I’m onto myself.