I don't know if you guys can see me way up here, but if so, check out this stellar balloon collection I've got going. Pretty rad, right? At last count, I had over two hundred. They're tied to every part of me: each of my fingers, my arms, my legs, both feet - there are so many, I've had to start knotting them around my shirt buttons and belt loops. There may or may not be a few attached to my bra straps, I'm not sure. It's getting hard to keep track.

I know I look ridiculous. I know some of you are probably like, "Come on, Ellie. We get it already. Enough with the damn balloons."

Well, I'm trying. But this guy - this fucking guy that walked into my heart like he owned the place - won't stop handing them to me. I'm like, Hey, these are really cool and all, and high five on knowing the exact shades of each of my favorite colors, but I wasn't exactly expecting these. And now I have more balloons than I ever anticipated getting, like, ever. Could you maybe hold off on giving me any more, at least until this batch has deflated?

He's not listening though. He's just sitting there, blowing up one after another after another. I don't know where he's getting them. They seem to appear out of thin air.

I shouldn't tell you the things they're filled with. I shouldn't do that to you, or to this poor, already tragically saccharine blog. I shouldn't say that each is filled with a moment more amazing than the last, and buoyed up - me in tow - by a happiness I wouldn't deserve if I lived a hundred lives. Crap. I'm sorry, you guys. I probably inhaled some of the helium they're cut with. Either that, or the lack of oxygen is short-circuiting my brain.

It's nice up here, it really is. I mean, I'm not complaining. The perspective can't be beat. I can see everything I've ever known laid out below - way, way down there on the ground where my feet were firmly planted less than two months ago. It's funny how this view changes the way things look. I've learned a lot about myself up in these clouds, and most days, the breathlessness is exciting.

But yeah, I will admit that floating up, up, and away has its downside, too. I can barely see some of the things that are very important to me, much less reach out and touch them. They seem scarily far away at times. So I'm trying to get back down, I really am. It's all about balance, if I can just find that for once in my life.

Did I mention he has all my favorite colors? Makes it kind of hard to pop them. Fucking guy. Probably hid all the pins, anyway. Though I guess I could use a sliver of the jar we broke open a few days ago.

That thing is in pieces.