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solstice: Assassinating Time

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›post #691
›bio: kristen
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›8/8/2025
›13:30

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The flowers you gave me were the best I've had in a while. I normally hate flowers that I don't buy myself. I'm a control freak and dislike the swampy water they become. The first person that ever brought me flowers was the one I rejected due to the Dave Matthews Band adoration. Flowers profess sentiment. I was the cool girl. I learned later that I was a prototype for the "pick me" type.

Your flowers were of course different.

They were from the sympathy due to the death of your estranged mother - a complicated story you've never told me. It made me laugh - the only flowers that I would willingly accept - and so romantic and weird.

The daisies are all that's left now.

You've not texted me now in 24-hours. It fascinates me that I'm not curling up in a fetal pose lamenting my lack of value. Instead, I figure you've thought of me but we're too new for you to trust me not trying to pull you into something. Your compartmentalization game is strong. I greatly admire it. Remember how I told you I found your boss energy sexy? I meant it more than that - knowing that inside you are quaking in little boy, it gives me even more respect that you don't show it a crack.

This will be the first Saturday we haven't seen each other since you've traveled to my town to dally. I'll try to make it through. I'm already excited that I get to do my Sunday pizza for a comeback kid.

I'll try to say it. I'll try to mean it, but I don't care anymore if you validate me or if you prove that you love me. It's been wonderful to tingle again. It maddens me the scraps I ate from my second marriage. I was a fool. I knew in my gut from the very beginning it was a waste of time. Maybe I'll text my stepdaughter later to try and give it some reason whatsoever. I hope that being in those kids' lives was like the compliment their mother gave me.

"I'm so grateful that you were there - they got to have you in their lives. They love you."

and I'm almost tempted to use 3rd person as the tears well up in my eyes - to be loved by innocence... that's a big one. To even believe it? that's huge-er. There, I wiped them away and will maybe take a jab at myself so I'll remember that I'm not really worthy of love - only if I bend myself into a black hole.

So, I'll go to Aldi's today. I'll go to the library tomorrow. I'll be with my favorite person - me. Yet,
I
will
constantly
think
of
you.

I can't stop wafting Benjie Hughes' "Love is a Razor"

All of the pain I've caused by not saying what I mean.
may I be wiser now
for all our sakes.

or die trying

(and I'll touch your balls often)





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