She doesn’t
want to forget. But she wonders if she’ll remember her own writing.
“People write song about girls like you.” Is the first thing she writes. She
remembers his over confident face, ruined by unfocused eyes and the heavy reek
of alcohol that seemed to physically waft around him. She walked away with a smile, shaking her head at his pick-up line. She looked back once and saw his crumpled face, disappointed and dejected,
as his friends surrounded him, laughing pointing good naturedly. On impulse she strides back
towards him and kisses him, fast and hard, before walking away once more. Laughter and whoops of encouragement from the strangers that would one day
become her friends accompanying her walk.
She wonders
if her diary will read like a novel. She wonders if she’ll ever really
understand how important those first words were for her. If she’ll remember her
own misery that night, and how he made her laugh.
She writes carefully, chronicling every moment of their life together. Pen on paper, as physical evidence.
She doesn’t
want to forget.
1 comment:
Date: February 14th? Coincidence? Declaration of love? Poet? Singer-songwriter? Secrets? Alcohol? Bad breath?
Intriguing questions, disturbing questions, fascinating questions, privacy questions.
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