things i don’t know:

- why the stock market crashes

- whether or not it’s actually safe to eat the entire apple.

- how irrational numbers work

- why the government won’t take a stricter stance on gun control

- how to calculate a golfer’s handicap

- what kind of mood you’ll be in when you come home

- how long food stays edible after it’s expired

- how to get my puppy to stop peeing on the floor

- what i’m doing with my life.

the most beautiful love letter i’ve ever read was written by r’s grandfather. he lives in sweden and only speaks a little bit of english but is one of r’s biggest supporters— his love, so apparent and unconditional, just bursts through his clearly carefully chosen words.

a perfect example: upon seeing the first pictures of our brand new french bulldog puppy, morfar (swedish for grandfather) posted the following on my very expensive guitar-collecting boyfriend’s facebook wall:

"That dog likes guitars. To eat them."

i laughed for about a year. from a continent away and across a language barrier, i laughed out loud. the following is the letter Morfar wrote after hearing r’s first full record was released in february. i call it “the best grandfather in the universe."

subject: Mudfoot

Thank’s Robbie. I like you Music and your song. I can’t understand all words. but it sounds good. Giv the boy’s in the group my best regards. I have been listening more than a second. I have been listening a lot of times     Morfar.

has there ever been a sweeter declaration of support? of love? it brings tears to my eyes every time i read it.

it’s freezing here. the temperature hasn’t risen above 30 for the last few weeks and the cold is under my skin. it takes hours to warm up after commuting back and forth to wherever i’m going to or coming from. i’ve spent my meager spare time underneath the covers wearing two pairs of wool socks to keep from shivering and i’ve been studying cocktails and applying to new jobs and crying over the way johnny cash’s hands shake in the video of him singing “hurt” as an old man.

the way he plays that one note on the piano over and over.

the way june is shown for just a moment, smiling.

that this video is known as johnny’s epitaph.

that he died wanting.

“what have i become?”

it’s freezing here and my skin is cold and dry, but my heart is full and warm.

it’s freezing here but my blood is flowing smoothly and coursing through my veins.

“you could have it all”

and the cold is moving through me, dissipating into a mere memory of the frozen concrete, and

you are here. emerging from hours of guitar playing to check on me and kiss me and quietly close the door as i finish writing

for now.