i reached deep beneath my futon and pulled out a very dusty black guitar case, and tonight my guitar repertoire is one howie day song larger. truly, i'm a bad, bad guitar player. i think there are multiple reasons for this (laziness... busyness... other random emotional aversions to guitars...). but april is dating a guitar-boy, and i remember once feeling like boys that could pick up a guitar and sing had a certain magic about them that i could never quite resist. time has helped me to realize that you can definately have a magical man without guitar skills, but something in acoustic strings and a voice always whispers to my heart, to that place that likes to ache at silent sunrises and campfires and the rhythm of waves. i've been feeling a little lonely this weekend - david's been at his winter camp with his youth group kids and all of my philly friends are as busy studying as i should be. instead, i took a walk by myself yesterday to breathe the newly not-frigid air and watch some wisps of clouds drift through the sky. it's the first blue sky in a week or two, and it called me and called me until i found some gloves and a hat and left my books behind for a while. my books are still sitting there, on the table, and now the sky is dark. but i still have this once-forgotten guitar, and the magic is now being made, not by a boy, but by ME.