I didn't want Nelson to have the fly the plane on his own.

But I wanted to go to college.

And I wanted this to be good,

But mostly it's just better than an empty page.

And I haven't let my fingers run wild on this keyboard in far too long,

But my thoughts have stamina all their own.

So thank you for the good people, the kind Jack Johnson sings about.

Thank you for the new scar on my left hand and a reason to break curfew.

Thank you for one last everything.

Thank you for walking me to rooms not meant for perfect people.

Thank you for reminding me to say it all out loud.

Thank you for Paris, and thank you for Provo.

It will be my own fault if I forget.