They met when she was 13.

Posted: January 17th, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Fiction | No Comments »

They met when she was 13. He was different from the other young people around her. He was in her world but he was different from all the others. He made being different cool, before him, the only way to be cool was by being like everyone else. She was crazy, sure, but…with him that was okay, even valued. So she would talk to him late at night, while she got drunk at a very young age, feeling the flawlessness of youth, as if this very thing had never happened before, as if it would never happen again. She had phone sex with him. He said at first he was faking it, then got into it later. Didn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Yes and she wanted to die, she always wanted to die.
It doesn’t matter.
She doesn’t know who she is anymore but when she listens to old music, she remembers who she used to be…and still feels that self somewhere, deep down inside her, and wonders why doesn’t anyone recognize her….when she moves to a foreign country?
But she was a little girl once, a pretty pretty girl.
So she knew this guy in middle school…then later in high school. Under completely different pretenses. Sunflowers and friends abound. Love and wet flowers, blades of grass sticking to your thigh. Eggs and coffee, more lost feelings, didn’t matter…the next escape happened.
Then again, why on earth must everything be repeating? This last time though, damn. Joined at the hips and seemingly at the minds in some zone. No matter the feelings, things always go away. She wants to say, thanks to you….she told me to let you know. You son of a gun, she told me to let you know.
You told her that you love her, then you gave her some of your qi. You expelled it. You defiled her with your insincere blasphemous ejaculate.
But you aren’t guilty, not any more than anyone else is…probably even less, but it still isn’t good.
It is faulty and unremarkable. It is what every…typical of…someone who is so dying to live, is expected to be. Pure mirrored coolness. Nothing but cold water dripping
And what you really wanted to find in the bathtub.
Heaven knows…it doesn’t matter.

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