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Dear Rors, There will be times like these in our future. No kids, no husbands, no dogs, no computers. Just us. Old friends on a dock, full of laughter and tears. I look forward to it. xo Karen
There's a blessing in attending college on the Lakes. Whenever you feel melancholy, the weather can always match your feeling. It matched to a T on Sunday. Sundays in general have always been blah to me. School is always the next day, ending of two days of freedom. Two days of adventure. Two days of drinking and shooting pool. Two days of laughing. Two days of singing ACDC songs on a bench. Two days of seeing the slow snow fall. Two days of hearing the radiator heat scream. Two days of sex. This Sunday was no exception but the two days before it, the two days of my glorious weekend freedom were nowhere near fun. Or happy. Or playful. Or sexy. It was two days of loneliness. Two days of desperation. Two days of not knowing who you are. Two days of driving by his house to see if I could see them in the window. Friday was always a relief. Last class over, smoke a joint, eat pizza. Blow off the girls. Pull on the cable knit and head over to his place. He meets me outside and stabs me in the heart. Just real quick, like a car crash. Like a bullet. Like a shot in the head. Ball to the brain. How did it switch so fast? I was the one cheating. With the boy from upstate, with the returning senior, with my old boyfriend. Clearly unhappy. I wanted out but couldn't hurt an ant. Found the girls. They drove me here. Shellshocked. They Barely spoke. And we just sat.
Dear Rors,
ReplyDeleteThere will be times like these in our future. No kids, no husbands, no dogs, no computers. Just us. Old friends on a dock, full of laughter and tears. I look forward to it.
xo Karen
There's a blessing in attending college on the Lakes. Whenever you feel melancholy, the weather can always match your feeling. It matched to a T on Sunday. Sundays in general have always been blah to me. School is always the next day, ending of two days of freedom. Two days of adventure. Two days of drinking and shooting pool. Two days of laughing. Two days of singing ACDC songs on a bench. Two days of seeing the slow snow fall. Two days of hearing the radiator heat scream. Two days of sex.
ReplyDeleteThis Sunday was no exception but the two days before it, the two days of my glorious weekend freedom were nowhere near fun. Or happy. Or playful. Or sexy. It was two days of loneliness. Two days of desperation. Two days of not knowing who you are. Two days of driving by his house to see if I could see them in the window.
Friday was always a relief. Last class over, smoke a joint, eat pizza. Blow off the girls. Pull on the cable knit and head over to his place. He meets me outside and stabs me in the heart. Just real quick, like a car crash. Like a bullet. Like a shot in the head. Ball to the brain.
How did it switch so fast? I was the one cheating. With the boy from upstate, with the returning senior, with my old boyfriend. Clearly unhappy. I wanted out but couldn't hurt an ant.
Found the girls. They drove me here. Shellshocked. They Barely spoke. And we just sat.