Push, Push, Shove.
I’ve had breakfast like this before…quiet and convoluted with tension. The room is erupting with concerns and fears.
“why am I sitting at this table?”, I know those are the words he’s internalizing. For now, I know I cant make anyone happy at this table, including myself. I can tell his opinion of me has changed. I am a weird piece of furniture within his life and he doesn’t know where to place me. I can tell he’s afraid of me.
Falling Backwards. Time is dragging me through trenches of memories.
“You bes cute” Sent Text
A check mark supersedes my electronic affection, making me aware that my cellular device has done what I pay $10.99 a month for: unlimited grammatically incorrect text messages peppered with flirtation to whoever I see suitable.
1 New Message
“You bes cute too.”
I smile and shove my phone into my purse and proceed to walk towards my next class. My hand is still in pain from accidentally pouring hot coffee onto it. I was nervous…when we first met to have coffee, so it was only a matter of time before I tripped or accidentally spilled a hot beverage onto you or myself.
“So that’s it?”
I take my favorite position alone once more; indian style on a hard wood floor. A fortress of cardboard embellishes my little apartment. This is a common theme within my life; I am constantly packing and unpacking.
Sometimes I don’t know what to pack so I pack everything all away. These belongings are mine and mine alone to deal with so who cares if I pack every little thing. Other times I do not know how to unpack things appropriately. I stall or become overwhelmed by the idea of starting anew and leaving some things behind. What if I didn’t pack everything I needed? What if I packed too little? What if I unknowingly disregarded something very important?
I guess one can never really know.
What I do know is that whoever resides in my mirror is a fucking bitch.
1) I don’t know her, so she really has no business lounging around.
2) She’s a little pathetic. I mean seriously, do your fucking hair woman. Put some mascara on….anything. If you’re going to stare back at me at least look nice.
3) She’s a constant reminder of things unchanged and perpetually static.
Backward Forward Push Shove Push Shove