full of moxie and viscosity

we all remember nathan gadd. he sat me on a rooftop and explained to me how if the bible is true, then when you read it, something will happen. i read the bible and lots of things happened, and we sat together in the chapel of silence and watched a carved tree patiently, waiting for someone to say something. we snuck into the box of prayers and read other people's wishes and didn't feel voyeuristic, just felt like sharing. he told me about bluebirds and happiness and he talked me out of getting a mountain dew slurpee and he said things like "that is incredible" and "she floors me" with so much fucking gravel in his voice that i tripped fourteen times. told me things about vexation of spirit and velvet underground. we smoked cigarettes off my balcony and i feel nice when i think of the time we shared a blanket. he was smarter than me and more dangerous for himself than i was to myself, which was near impossible at that time (remember? there was a justin). i stopped picking for him and started reading again. he let things freak him out. he blinked with more eyelid when he knew i was watching. he made me think about jesus christ, for heaven's sake, he made me think about jesus christ. and most of all he told me that love is more than boys and i think about that every day, almost. (something else i think about very frequently is how mark small once said to me, sometimes things just don't work out, rachel, sometimes things just don't work out: and it was so genius).