I think it's been about five years, and people still ask about you. I think it's been five years because I don't count. I've never counted. I try not think about it at all. When I do try to talk about you, I never know where to begin. The first time I saw you and... Continue Reading →
I want to go to his house and break all his windows. I want to take everything that means anything to him, and curb stomp it into the ground. I want to punch him in the stomach a thousand times, until he finally hurts as much as I do, and when he does he will... Continue Reading →
I've been doing everything I possibly can not to write about you. I shut down my computer. I make more plans. I thwart my own desire to write. I don't tell friends your name, I won't introduce you. I put your flowers on the coffee table and stuffed the hand written note into the top left... Continue Reading →
He isn't the type to show up in your doorway, and that's a good thing. When I watch the wrong movie and the man tells the woman he respects her for her tenacity and strength, and that he wants her to be successful because she's earned it, I cry; he doesn't come. When the janitor... Continue Reading →
I hated the way you said I had no "values" because I see people with compassion. Because I believe love has solved more problems than condemning ever has. Because I believe your version of justice would leave the world with blank eye sockets and toothless gums, choking down their own teeth. I hated the way... Continue Reading →
ifoundyouinthedark 