Demmit, where’s my Matt Farrell?

February 22, 2010 § Leave a comment

Oh, Judith, where should I start? Should I begin with 14-year-old me reading you with a flashlight under the covers till 4am on a school night? Or should I just get right on it and say that I hate you? You wove together such tales of love and romance that you filled my head with thoughts of jaded, reluctant knights in dented armor. Now, almost 2 decades later, you still have me searching for that one exceptional man who will take no shit from me but will care for me when I’m at my lowest and will come for me even at my orneriest moments. I’d like to say you write a lot of bull, but you’ve seen me through years of sleepless, lonely nights. While I sit up in the dark, reading and rereading your books, you make me believe that there is a Matt Farrell for me. I just wish he’d stop slacking around and come find me already.

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