iii. tea - 12/14
Breaking up was a mutual decision. It was a logical decision, because you were staying back home at Portland State, and I was leaving for school across the country. But I’m beginning to think that logical and intelligent aren’t synonymous, because breaking up with you might have been the stupidest decision I’ve ever made.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve gone on dates since then, with nice guys in my creative writing class who have dark hair and blue eyes and wide smiles but aren’t you. There’s one that I’ve been seeing consistently for a little while, a poet named Aiden who writes about angst, and he takes me to a small corner teashop because I once mentioned how much I miss the one back home.
Their vanilla bubble tea is all right, but it’s not like Krystal’s. And Aiden is all right, but he’s not you.
We’re there right now, sitting across from each other and writing in our respective notebooks, because we are both writers and that is what we do. He is furiously concentrated in his work; he doesn’t occasionally look up and smile at me. He reads Whitman, not Poe. He actually likes Shakespeare. Maybe it should make me feel better, knowing that we have something in common, but all I can think about is how his eyes aren’t the right shade of blue.
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i want to dedicate this to so many people you guys have such amazing comments and i just wow i'm so happy about the reaction to this. but this chapter is dedicated to avriale as an apology for not telling her about this and also because she is a genuine sweetheart and i love her loads.
