Seven.

You love me.

I love you.

This is perfect.

It’s ok.

It’s wrong.

It hurts.

No.

Stop!

We should stop.

Wait.

I can’t.

It’s different now.

It feels good.

It feels too good.

It happens.

It’s done.

– – – 0 – – –

You love me.

I love you.

Right?

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Six.

The doorbell rang.

Weird, I wasn’t expecting company.

I opened the door to see you carrying loads of paper bags.

“Could you give me a little hand?” you asked.

“Did you buy everything in the store?” I asked while grabbing a couple of the bags.

“Ha! I wish,” you said. “I just got the essentials.”

“Right, the essentials,” I said. “Didn’t you just buy a pair of boots last week?” I could see a new pair poking out of their box.

“Yeah, but these ones looked so cute. See?” you said.

“Yeah I see it. I also see a bunch of other ‘essential’ things that you bought,” I said. “You do know that if a zombie apocalypse were to happen you’d have to leave all these things behind, right?”

But you weren’t listening to me anymore. You were already trying on your new boots.

Five

“He’s on his way to becoming a doctor.”

“She earns six digits now.”

“Yes, they hired her even before she graduated.”

“We are very proud of him.”

The conversations my parents have with their friends… are never about me.

Four.

I never understood why you did what you did.

Did it make you happy to know that you’ve hurt me?

They told me to forget about it. It’s all in the past. Move on. Everything will be better if you don’t think about it.

But I couldn’t forget it. I couldn’t forgive you. You hurt me and I couldn’t let it go.

I shut you out of my life. I thought that the best way to forget was to pretend you never existed.

But I couldn’t live that way forever.

And so, I forgave you.

I still don’t understand why you did what you did.

You’re forgiven. But the bruise you left will always be there.

The black eye you gave me will never disappear no matter how hard I try to forget.

Three.

“Can you wash the dishes?”

“Can I do it later?”

“Can you do it now?”

“I’ll do it later.”

You never did the dishes.

 

“Can you do the laundry?”

“Can I do it later?”

“Do it now.”

“I’ll do it later.”

Your clothes are everywhere.

 

“Can you fix your room?”

“Later.”

“Now.”

Sigh. “Later!”

How can you live like this?

 

Two.

We’re late.

I waited for you to finish putting your make-up on.

I remind you of the time.

You said five more minutes. You also said that twenty minutes ago.

Ten minutes later, we got in your car.

You in the driver seat while I’m riding shotgun.

You fix the rear view mirror and look at your reflection.

You put your seatbelt on.

Before we left, you whipped out your phone and took a dozen pictures of yourself.

We’re late.

One.

I feel so full.

I had ebi tempura with rice for dinner. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be for two people.

I finished it on my own.

Maybe that’s why I feel sick.

I also drank a glass of milk and ate a big waffle.


Definitely not a good idea.