Did you like the book? You don't say either way, so I'm presuming you didn't, which is fine, I often think the less we have in common the better for both of us, because let's face it, the last time our tastes collided it didn't end well for me. But supposedly that's called ancient history, I don't know, supposedly it's time to let go and move on.
I'd be happy to watch it with you, the Simpsons, I mean - but, no, I can't and I don't have a computer so while the disc was a nice idea I can't really use it, either.
Can you please get my stuff from Natalie? I don't feel comfortable with her having it. I don't even know her, she seemed nice enough, sure, just like the sort of person I should probably want to be - pretty and nice and with a kid that's cute as a button (whatever that means, but I know cute when I see it and he's got photographic genes that's for damn sure) but honestly I don't want the mother of Harry's kid having all my stuff. It just makes me feel angry OKAY? This is me naming MY feelings, it makes me feel angry. So get it back and I'll be counting them and they better all be there because if they're not there will be trouble because I wont be here forever and I will be really pissed if anything gets MISPLACED.
You should tell me how you'd re-write my life without you, Connor, you really should. Would I still be in Arizona? I guess that would work for both of us, right?
Of course, I don't want a novel, I just want a life - and it's too late for any of the comprimises you like to pretend now you would have made. It's easy to be not just wise in retrospect, it's easy to be kind as well.
It's been a bad day, bad week maybe. I don't know. Your letter was nice, well intentioned, I shouldn't be pissed but I am, I don't know why, maybe because these meds make me feel sick and no one listens and then you're all giving my stuff away.
Is Harry OKAY? I've been so worried, Connor. Kiss his leg better for me. Write back if you want, maybe I'll be in a better mood next time.
Did you like the book? You don't say either way, so I'm presuming you didn't, which is fine, I often think the less we have in common the better for both of us, because let's face it, the last time our tastes collided it didn't end well for me. But supposedly that's called ancient history, I don't know, supposedly it's time to let go and move on.
I'd be happy to watch it with you, the Simpsons, I mean - but, no, I can't and I don't have a computer so while the disc was a nice idea I can't really use it, either.
Can you please get my stuff from Natalie? I don't feel comfortable with her having it. I don't even know her, she seemed nice enough, sure, just like the sort of person I should probably want to be - pretty and nice and with a kid that's cute as a button (whatever that means, but I know cute when I see it and he's got photographic genes that's for damn sure) but honestly I don't want the mother of Harry's kid having all my stuff. It just makes me feel angry OKAY? This is me naming MY feelings, it makes me feel angry. So get it back and I'll be counting them and they better all be there because if they're not there will be trouble because I wont be here forever and I will be really pissed if anything gets MISPLACED.
You should tell me how you'd re-write my life without you, Connor, you really should. Would I still be in Arizona? I guess that would work for both of us, right?
Of course, I don't want a novel, I just want a life - and it's too late for any of the comprimises you like to pretend now you would have made. It's easy to be not just wise in retrospect, it's easy to be kind as well.
It's been a bad day, bad week maybe. I don't know. Your letter was nice, well intentioned, I shouldn't be pissed but I am, I don't know why, maybe because these meds make me feel sick and no one listens and then you're all giving my stuff away.
Is Harry OKAY? I've been so worried, Connor. Kiss his leg better for me. Write back if you want, maybe I'll be in a better mood next time.
--- K.
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