Drink your juice.

I’ve been looking ugly in laptop pictures with Morgan for like three years now, and I know no one asked but my heart is very full so oh well, guys.

I am never less afraid of being ugly or a weirdo than when this person is in a room with me. Monga wants you to be ugly. She wants you to get weird. She wants to see your snaggletooth and your frostbitten toe and she loves them both unabashedly and without irony, and then suddenly out of nowhere one day you love them too. She’s goofy as fuck, funnier in one of her nostrils than any of us are in our whole bodies, and down to build off of your dumb joke until it’s something beautiful. She makes me cackle like I’ve never heard words before. Til there’s pee on the rug of the room you’re sharing at the La Quinta Inn and Suites in Huntsville, Alabama.

I’ve never met anyone less afraid of being unknowing in this world. Of saying, “I’m not sure,” but still showing up and being giving and musical and uproarious in this life. She is a hurricane. She is courteous to waitresses.

Morgan sees people wholly and she sees the world wholly and I see people and the world better for knowing her. I’m less afraid to say nice things because I know her. Thank fucking god I know her.