Days come and go from all directions and this one hit the jackpot of all plane dives ending in an explosive debris. All I can remember is being quiet. We were both quiet and we stayed that way for a while. Everything was going so well and only got better. We walked on the path at the park and I was swept away. We did nothing, but it was the best feeling ever. Like sleep. I knew how nonsexual the atmosphere was and it was thrilling. We would last for a long time. I can still picture him walking as I saw him through my window on our first date. He had on a sweater and his hair was a little messy. This guy had it all: the looks, the brains, and the personality that hit the spot; until I found out he wasn’t the guy.
That was ages ago. His car has been breaking down, and we’ve been talking on the phone. I haven’t seen him for a while. He spent the day with me yesterday and neglected to ask me what was going on and was acting like a train wreck and I felt like cutting his tongue with scissors [only for a moment]. He was speeding and sliding out of the lanes when he took me home. And then he asked me to do heroin. That’s when I wanted to shoot pesticide into his arm. He wouldn’t let up and I wanted to go home. I wouldn’t mind not seeing him again.