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Remember this sign, this tree, this broken-down street. Remember it is possible to feel this way. There were twenty days on the calendar, then fifteen, then ten, then the day I packed my car and left. I drove the length of two states, sobbing, heat like a hand against my chest. But I didn’t. I didn’t remember it.
Sometimes at night I conduct interviews with myself.
What do you want?
I don’t know.
What do you want?
I don’t know.
What seems to be the problem?
Just leave me alone
What do you want?
I don’t know.
What do you want?
I don’t know.
What seems to be the problem?
Just leave me alone
How is that even possible?” the philosopher says. “He’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”
She knows. She knows. So it begs the question, doesn’t it? Did she unkind and ungood and untrue him?
She knows. She knows. So it begs the question, doesn’t it? Did she unkind and ungood and untrue him?
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