Wednesday, September 14, 2011

We have poison in our pockets.

No word from the boy from the bus, but it's okay. I'm not dwelling and being weird like I usually do. Tonight on the bus, I'll hope to see someone cute, but it won't matter either way. I'll probably just sleep.
I haven't heard from Luis in a while, and I hate to say it, but I'm relieved.
My mom and I will call my Aunt Bev. Soon. Like, this week. She's the one who keeps forgetting, and she's the one who knows her number. It's not like returning a call to some weird old lady you sew with. We have to call her.
I have to talk to her again. Just one more time. That's all.
That's all.

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