May 17th, Year Three

Rick received my number from one of his co-workers, and made use of it twice. In between phone calls, there is a wait that feels massive. Every conversation between us, seems to me the most important I will ever have. Because of this irrational fixation, and Rick’s willingness to allow it, I have released all other men from my life. Released them from my cruel bondage. They are as free as I feel, when I listen to Rick laugh about nothing.

He chooses to remain private about the strangest things. The man is peculiar, and he views me, if I am choosing to look at the situation with an honest and firm eye, as someone of little value. Of course, I do not like this. I reject it completely. It is better to take on a remodeling project in my parent’s home. Better to drink myself into oblivion. Turn away from all inconvenient truths.

Years from now, when I look back on who I have been, will I be forgiving of my youth, and the decisions I made with a very limited knowledge on how the world works? Will the proportions be too large for me to measure, and build something with all I collected? Will I yearn for a redo, or at least hope for the kindness of a retelling?

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May 17th, Year Three

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