Meant To Be

Sweater Weather

You and I fit like my favourite sweater

And there's no doubt about it, I'm this forever

There isn't a version of us where we aren't together

Your rainy days, my sunny weather

Sweater, from FOUR's first album, Nights Like These

I wake the next morning to the sound of rain pattering against my window. It's my favourite sort of morning, my favourite sort of weather.

Thinking about days starting makes me think about meeting Holland in that coffee shop - if you can even call it meeting, it was practically the opposite of a meet-cute - and how everything could have been different. If I hadn't gone to that Starbucks. If he hadn't gotten the address wrong. If I hadn't decided to have a shower. If he hadn't felt so bad about the whole thing.

It's sort of crazy to think about it, all of these different realities, about as far apart from us as the thickness of a piece of tape.

All of that just makes me want to write more, makes my head overflow with ideas. It's a strange difference from just a few days ago, when I had no ideas at all. When I was feeling barren and desperate and sad. (I still feel sort of desperate and sad, but in more of a tragic-writer sort of way.)

I wander down to the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea, then wander back up to my room. I don't have any classes today - I'm lucky enough to have Fridays off, which feels positively decadent - so I can dedicate the whole day to writing if I want.

The next hour sort of blurs into this phase of mind dumping ideas into a Google doc, no form, no pressure, just absolute stream of consciousness. It feels good. It's reminding me of what writing is supposed to be like.

After an hour, I pick up my phone and text Holland. I've got no idea where he is or what time it is, so I just say:

Good morning. Hope its not the middle of the night now or that I don't wake u up

Then I put my phone down and keep writing, ideas flowing out like a blur. I'm on my way to having the beginning of a solid outline when my phone buzzes.

Ah, it's around 6pm here. Getting ready for a show.

I wince. I can't imagine what the jet lag must be like on these tours - I have no idea how they do it.

Good luck with ur show! You're in brazil?

I'm guessing - I haven't memorized all of their tour dates yet.

Sao Paulo, yeah. It's amazing here. Gorgeous - and warm.

So weird to think about - it's cold and raining here right now.

We're also about a day ahead - I think that's the weirdest part.

True. Also I love the cold rainy weather. So I'm happy.

That makes sense. It suits you. What are you doing right now?

Well I don't have any classes today. So, I'm writing.

Ah it's the perfect weather for writing.

Exactly!

As we're texting, I'm starting to realize that it's almost lunch and all I've had to eat was half a piece of toast I swiped from Anya. So I stick my phone in my pocket and head back down to the kitchen, a smile on my face.

Once again, texting with Holland is just - it's just so nice. I know that's like, a weird word to use, but - getting to know him. Learning the way he texts and the way he translates the world into these texts. What he thinks is or isn't important to mention.