You may think that you are, but really you’re not.
You are one of my favorite people and I love getting to talk with you, even if you’re acting like your funny, weird self. Multiple times over the past two years since I’ve known you you’ve asked if you’re bothering me. Of course you’re not. You’re quite interesting and entertaining, and we have a lot in common.
Whenever you’re playing with my hair or touching me absentmindedly you think that you’re bothering me. In fact, I love it when people play with my hair, and it’s not really annoying when someone such as yourself touches my arm or grabs my hand when you’re talking with me. I’m reminded that I’m there in that moment with wonderful people who love me, and I love them back.
It seems to me that you just want to get inside my head and know what makes me tick, but part of the problem with that is that I’m an introvert and don’t necessarily express myself as much as someone like you does. The past two years as we’ve gotten to know each other we’ve said we should hang out more, and we attempt to and succeed occasionally, but we don’t try very often.
Everyone makes empty promises, and I think that ours may be that we’re going to hang out more this year and the next year. I am filled with joy every time that we talk or every time that we hang out, and I wish that we did both more. I promise that you’re not bothering me. You never do.
It makes me smile every time you snapchat me, or send me something related to Hamilton or cats. As I said before, we have a lot in common, and as we found out freshman year, we can certainly stand each other enough at least to be roommates on tours.
Speaking of tours, we’ve had so many great memories together, from the host home with the creepy dolls, to our first international choir tour to Central Europe where we stayed at that one hotel that used actual keys to get into the room, and again on our west coast choir tour last year to California and Oregon when we stayed in a dorm suite at Pepperdine University with our other sophomore choir sisters.
Not only have we had so much fun on these tours, but we’ve had some pretty memorable choir concerts, too. I don’t know which concerts were the most memorable for you, but the one when we performed Dry Bones with little kid instruments after we forgot ours in San Antonio is pretty hard to forget. Another one that sticks out in my mind is the last concert of our January tour at Camp Bethany freshman year. It was maybe our first time to say goodbye not only to the graduating seniors, but also to one of the sophomores who was leaving Centenary at the end of that semester. I can remember that concert so well, and how our director, after having listed all of the seniors and letting them take their bows, turned back to the whole choir just before singing Stars to see all of us either crying or trying really hard not to cry. I can remember him asking if we were all okay.
I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you at the end of our senior year. I don’t want to have to say goodbye to our junior class. I don’t want to say goodbye to the upperclassmen or the underclassmen. I don’t want to say goodbye to the choir. I don’t want to say goodbye to the college.
Don’t worry about bothering me. Any moment spent with you is one that will be cherished forever, especially after we’ve both left Centenary. Bother me as much as you want; I won’t mind.
