A Confession
I act tough. I try to at least. I try to walk around with my head held high and strong. I act like a lot of things don't phase me. That everything is savvy. That I am golden. When Mark leaves me and night to go to work, I act like I don't care and that nothing is going to terrify or scare me. However, on nights like tonight, that couldn't be further from the truth.
See...the apartment building in which I live is a really nice apartment building. Everything is new. Everything is clean. Nothing has ever been used before. There is a shiny and blue pool. A nice weight room and workout area. A BBQ area with a great view. It's awesome. A little on the expensive side, but awesome. However, there is a wide variety of different people that live in these buildings. The complex is made up of about three different ones, I think. I can't vouch for the others around me, but I can say that mine definitely has a wide variety of different people living within its innards. And some of these people seem as though they just turned 21, just got married, or booze a lot. So, on nights like tonight, I tend to sit on the couch, with my television on mute, and have my knees pulled up to my chest. This is because there is a certain couple in my building that fights so bad that I am scared that they are going to bust my door down.
Now, I am not really sure that I am terrified of this per se, but I am out and about tonight doing my laundry, and I really don't want to run into any drunken idiots that might attack me, rape me, or just continue to yell at each other and I might end up being caught in the cross-fires. I don't want this. I am scared of this. I think that my Criminology classes have made me a bit paranoid. I don't ever remember being this way. I even remember that me and Tear used to fight like that. I am sure there were some people in our building that felt the exact same way that I am feeling right now. I am wondering if this is some slight bout of Karma. Oh Kali. I see it. I do. Honestly.
I just want to get my laundry and get back inside my apartment, lock my door, and climb under the covers until Mark gets home. Fuck. 20 more minutes and the laundry will be done. Time couldn't go more slow for me.