SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019


Sunday, Apr. 27, 2003 @ 12:31 am
Usage



Tonight, after declining several invitations (including the stagette party and an evening with Should-have-stayed-a-fling) I half-heartedly studied for a few hours then went out for a walk in the dark.

Flip-flops and a discman. Feels like summer here. Smells like summer. My face is burning red from hours of jogging underneath the power lines.

I stop in a shadow to see who’s at the benches. Two girls. One with dyed-red hair, the other wearing a studded collar and raccoon eyeliner. One, two… three. Three is Dave’s former best friend, sauntering towards the girls with his guitar slung across his back. Beyond them I see the singer from Dave’s band. He’s everywhere here even when he’s not.

I come out of the shadow and walk past. Nobody expects me to be back here. They are involved in conversation. I flip-flop away.

Should-have called this afternoon. I didn’t answer. I know he’s more into me than I am into him. That’s very obvious. He told me that he is always afraid of breaking hearts, so I’ll relieve him of that worry.

This way of going about relationships is so much better for my confidence. Despite the appearance of rushing into a physical relationship, on that night of the fair the only clothes removed were my socks. I forced him to meet my mother. I made him drop me off before 11pm. Evil? Evil. Yet he still calls. There is the confidence.

I think I just used a guy.


Roots | Shoots

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