Defining Moments

When he said that if I hadn’t mentioned it, he would have forgotten about my birthday coming up, I knew it was definitely over.  There would be no miraculous reconciliation that I think everyone hopes for. 

And that’s okay, but it’s 12:30 and I’m listening to Death Cab for Cutie (Grapevine Fires, Transatlanticism, on loop), and I need to go to bed, but I just can’t.

I used to write his social security number on every goddamn form in the universe.  But I guess people forget things.

And I’m not even upset at him.  No need.  It was just a wake-up call.

I want to turn my attention elsewhere, but I always end up back here at 12:30, alone, messy room.  My late nights used to be worth it–I was optimistic as hell–but that flash bulb flickered and cracked.  So I get nostalgic.  It happens.


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