"I know entirely too much about coffee," Ben told me.
"Everyone should know entirely too much about something," I answered, and then "I don't know very much about anything, but I know a little bit about everything, I think."

And I wish I knew more.
Se tente. I tried.

I think I know about people, what made them what they are. I know about Pepsi and how it feels going down my throat. I know about how hard your heart can beat, when you are doing nothing to provoke it. I know that a Rotring writes smoother than a Lamy. I know why people drink. I know about waking up sad, and how it wrecks you. I know about the farm, I know the woods and the fields. I know exactly what size knot to tie in a garbage bag to get it to fit perfectly and not tear being stretched over the garbage can. I know about Salt Lake City. I know that nobody really wants you to color outside the lines, and that it's probably a good thing, when it comes down to it.

I wish, Alison, that we were better at getting together for milkshakes. But I love it when you write me letters. We can say what we're thinking. Write me a letter, friend.