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She had rarely felt this sad, dejected, and depressed before; but she reminded herself that she always felt that every time she was in the wringer.
It was silly to want to die and to think she wasn't worth life when there were so many other fuckers just breathing like they deserve to out there. She wished she could get drunk or something, but it was already so old and tired. The sun was setting. She had finished her mystery book. A roach crawled on the window outside.
He had responded to a text of hers today, and the dopamine rush was enough to make her smile. It was ridiculous. She knew in her gut that it was all over. She didn't think she had the balls to go to Wilmington without him, but maybe. None of it really mattered. She had to get through the day. Writing incessantly was one of the things that kind of helped so she did. It was kind of like talking to someone.
Long ago, she had learned that talking to just anybody wasn't what she craved. She wanted to talk to people she loved and trusted. She probably should have killed some time with the professor and drank some wine, but she just couldn't see it happening. Now, maybe she could muster it, but earlier she had been hanging on to her sanity by a thread. She had deleted all of his texts and put away all the little tokens that reminded her of him, but it was a stupid useless gesture. She couldn't just throw away her $50 toothbrush, and she was wearing the t-shirt he gave her. the ball was right in front of her, but it was what she had done. It was all stupid, but she was trying to survive the sound of her heart breaking.
The funniest part was when she tried to make him into some snobby fat man who never asked her any questions about herself. It worked towards a fashion, but she was just going to have to knuckle through and get over it. She rubbed the sand into the blanket so she couldn't see it as well. She was trying her best to erase the humiliation of not being wanted.
Even for anything. She would have given him anything. She had tried to. He didn't want it.
He had mocked her as this exuberant positive person. If she could laugh today, she would. The geraniums were lovely. The autumn day was a peach. Tomorrow, she had loads to do at work. Nonetheless, she had thought about how she could kill herself. Oddly, the Elliot smith route was one that seemed feasible - stabbing herself in the heart. She wondered if the bone would be hard to break through or if you'd have to do it parallel to the ribs. She also thought about starving herself. It probably wouldn't be that hard.
The only comfort she took was that she had known she had felt this before. She had known she had gotten through this. He wasn't the only person on planet earth she could ever relate to, but he was so exquisite to her.
Her mother at least hadn't berated her and asked her what she had done to make this happen. She just said maybe space would be a good thing. Narcissi knew what space was. Space was goodbye. She was a failure. She had failed at being herself. She had failed at being a career success. She had failed at being beautiful. She knew that if she did kill herself, she would not cause a void in anyone's life because she wasn't in anyone's life. She was ensconced in a house in the boondocks without any friend besides someone she had fucked. She knew few would be surprised. Part of what kept her going was to not give number two the satisfaction of being right. It's not like he was so great and interesting, and he felt worthy of living. Why didn't she?
Not at all did she blame the latest guy for not wanting her. She didn't want her.
The roach kept trying and falling. The bees kept waiting for the fall buds to open.
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