Halfway along the New Jersey street a person appeared behind her, but she didn’t know. Random cars whizzed by on the road, and they caught her attention every now then. A red jeep with bright headlights reflected the strangers shadow on the pavement behind her. She turned around, and noticed the man. White, bear face, short shaggy hair. His dingy flannel shirt was tucked halfway into ripped blue jeans that were covered in random patches of bleach stains and dirt.

"Fear not for the future, weep not for the past."

"Have you see how skinny she is?"

"Yeah, and I heard she was in the hospital from throwing up."

"On purpose?"

A very scary incident happened on the bus this morning.  I yanked the signal cord right as the we pulled up to 21st and Arch.  As the back doors swung open, I noticed that the parked cars were within a foot of the bus and I wasn't going to be able to fit through with my backpack on.  As I dropped my shoulder to slip off my bag, the doors suddenly shut, trapping me between them.  The first "I'm stuck" was a quiet one, but they quickly grew louder as I realized how dangerous the situation was.  The bus driver couldn't see me and if he accelerated, I would end up in the hospital.  As my screams continued, other passengers joined as well.  Finally, I was released, but still could not fit.  The man across from me whispered, "Honey, I think you need to use the front." 

"Yeah, I think so too."

I walked off completely mortified, but happy to be alive. 

I HATE, like hate, the way you make me feel.
I see you around the neighborhood and it just puts my body into shock every time without fail. And then after the initial shock passes every thing goes into overdrive; I get mad butterflies, my heart beats at the speed of sound, I can't actually speak because it comes out a squeak or a cry and my hands start shaking violently. And it's all your fault!
Before, this used to sort-of be a good feeling. I enjoyed the rush of adrenaline, but before I got to use all of the adrenaline up when I got to run up and kiss you. Before, I spent time with you. Before, we went out of our way to make sure that we saw each other. And now I feel all of the same things and feel a surge of some kind of mixture between love and hate. I love to hate you and I hate to love you. It's an extremely complicated way to live out my life.
I guess it isn't bad enough that I think about you all the time, dream of you, wish I were with you, or just plain miss you. No, we have to take it to another level. You are the last person I would want to spend a moment with, but I wish I could spend nights and days in your arms. Every time I see you I want to kiss you and simultaneously want to punch you in the mouth and walk away. You are the one person in this world I want to tell all of my problems to and you're my main problem.
So, thank you… For making seeing you so damn complicated.

Every Sunday on the BIO Channel, marathons of a documentary call "I Survived" are played. "I Survived features several different individuals every episode where they tell a story of how they survived a life threatening experience. This is by far one of the best documentary television series I've ever watched. 

http://www.biography.com/video.do?name=isurvived

Would you be so kind as to tell me of Celia?

College is so expensive and I dont understand why? Its shorter in school days, you have to pay before you even get accepted/rejected. What is the point of paying excessive amounts and then being in debt for years after college?

Graduating in less then 3 months! Another huge milestone in a very short life time period.