May the Fourth Be With You. Tee Hee.

This is the 2nd 4th I've been alone for. "Alone," though, is a relative term, and one of the ways in which I am is quite apparent. But when I dance around the kitchen while my dad bakes cookies and Skye raves in her aviators to "That's Not My Name," I can focus on what and who I'm surrounded by. Really, I always should. It's gotten a lot easier these past weeks.

To the Lucy who ran around the block yesterday to Regina Spektor's melancholy beats, fighting tears and ignoring her target heart rate because 193 bpm cemented her vitality, listen to me. You can be happy. Choose to.


Happy Independence Day, loves. While holding on to the force, reach for peace.