I found my soul on the corner of West Main and Highway 47. It was hiding, and I only needed pitter-patter of rain, George Bailey, and a few thousand poundings on my keyboard to uncover it. I was getting married the day after tomorrow. Kasey and I only invited those we thought would keep us to our vows, which left us with less than two dozen people. With a number that small and intimate, we decided to write each person a letter, telling them how grateful we’d been for th
Daniel, Happy birthday, friend! I’m happy I’ve gotten the chance to know you. You’re intelligent, obviously, but there are lots of those people. You’re kind-hearted, too. And that’s much more rare. It’s rare at your age, especially. I remember being thirteen years old public-school kid, no dad telling me I had 'it' in me. Imagine me, rail-thin arms and greasy blonde hair crowding down to my eyes. It was like every day was an audition. I did the best I could—you know, audition
God, I’m writing to you from my messy college dorm in St. Paul, MN. If you haven’t taken notice, I’m half way through the second half of my junior year here. It’s beginning to dawn on me how life truly begins to speed up the farther along we go. Things have changed since the last time we’ve talked at length. If you’re the one writing the story, it feels like you've got me caught in a winter moment. Right now, it’s just me sitting here in this messy college dorm of mine. The t
(last september, I was hospitalized with pneumonia. Standing up felt like running a 5K, nurses poked needles in me in the middle of the night, & I had a big Bane mask on my head forcing air into my lungs. I write my fiancee kasey a letter every friday, & below is part of that letter from my hospital bed.) kasey rose, I wonder if this will be the only letter that I’ll write in a hospital gown. Maybe it won’t ever have to go that far again. Or maybe it will be one of the last l
I'm just trev.
I'm a 23-year old trying to make beauty out of life's raw stuff. I post stuff every Tuesday.