|
|
|
- Aftermath: Fingernails. Give them this week, they'll come back. I'm fine. Left achilles hurts, I had to limp, hobble, and hopstep the mile to work this morning, but for having gone 13 and a half miles yesterday I'm kicking it pretty well. Today, 52 degrees, tomorrow 54, but most importantly, clear and sunny! I need the sunshine right now more than ever. After work I go to the bakery, which I've been planning for days. I peptalk myself on the way there: what if he's there? but what if he's not there? you're okay, you're okay. I get there, he's there. I'm nervous and shaking and can't help but look at his eyes while he's talking to me, looking me in the eyes. I can't help it. What have you been doing, he asks me. Nothing. I want to start quoting sad songs, I want to play Willie Nelson on my show this week, Stardust. Don't Get Around Much Anymore. What's the point in doing anything. I miss him. When I leave I start crying and walk home in the dark. I look at stars, I think things through, I get home and get a text message from someone I don't want to be getting text messages from. I have 97 things saved in my gmail drafts folder.
|