Trouble Will Find Me

I'm in a muddy state right now. I'm a complete mess. How do I cope? How do I cope? By writing about it, of course. Or not, since my head's in shambles because of overwhelming emotions that I want to feel firsthand but cannot, because of reasons. It's complicated. It's too darn depressing. Help me. Hug me. Stay inside this rosy-minded fuzz with me.

OHMYGODTHENATIONAL. I'm choking up just by typing this. I am sorry, 25-year old fat self, for not trying hard enough to get you tickets to tonight's concert. Don't be too hard on yourself. There will be another one. And you'll go. And there will be somebody solid you can hold on to by then, when your knees buckle and tears start flooding down your face while reveling in Matt Berninger's calming baritone. And you can bawl your eyes out without a moment of hesitation once you finally hear Apartment Story live. Then would be the best time. Then would be the perfect time.

But right now you're going to be okay, as you always have, with their discography in your iPod, and this,


which, of course, you have already downloaded and watched thrice as of this writing, eyes brimming with tears and electricity shooting through your veins. And hey, lighten up! Because that lovely person who introduced you to The National just posted a selfie with Matt on Instagram awhile ago and that is like a shower of bazillion sparkling stars right in front of you, making you gag with happiness for her, and for you, for reading her post that changed your life more than two years ago.

So yeah, let's not fuck this over.