i remember you saying that one of the things you hated the most were platitudes. i don't blame you. they are so empty. i should tell you about my roommate, i mean, tell you more about her. she is a girl filled to the brim with platitudes. the just-right things to say that are so simple and so false that it feels like someone put a bandaid on you and ripped it off only moments after.
and yet i get so unhappy, sometimes, when i tell people things or my problems and they say something that doesn't help me, or feel right. i've gotten unfairly angry at my little brother about this, and sometimes my father. very occasionally my mother. i cannot remember the last time i got angry at her over that. maybe she said something very confucian or traditional that i didn't like, i don't know.
what i'm trying to say is, even though i won't find it, i always hold out hope and search for platitudes when they are the things i need least...i am always looking for and wanting to hear words that will make me feel better, even if they aren't true. does any of this make sense? i guess--
i guess i'm just missing you again.