Sadness has a distinct taste. Like metal, and acid.
I had grown accustomed to the taste, as well as an acute case of roller-coaster stomach. I didn't eat much anymore, but that was okay. I was okay.
Was I?
I shook my head, trying to distract myself from these thoughts, and aimed forward. I was walking home, one Mary Jane in front of the other, breathing in time. One headphone slipped out, and I reached down and placed it back in. The Beach Fossils warmed my soul, and I leaned my neck back, letting the sun warm my face.
I used to walk this way with him. We'd joke and laugh and smile and hold hands. It was perfect.
The dull ache pulsed.
I turned the corner to my street, where I had almost had my first kiss. Notably, he had never kissed me. I wasn't good enough I suppose.
I let myself in the front door and walked down the entry way, dropping my things off as I walked.
"Hello to you too.", my mother quipped from the living room.
I sighed, and put on my fake smile. "Sorry, music was still in. What's up?"
"Dr. Phil," she said, pointing to the glowing screen, "He's pretty great."
I kneeled behind the sofa and put my head on top of the back board. "He's a doctor, right?"
"I don't know but I wouldn't trust him with a scalpel."
I forced a giggle, kissed my mom on the cheek and stood up.
"And where are you going?"
"My room" I called out while I walked away, "Homework."
I got into my room, realizing my bag was still in the entryway and decided homework wasn't the best option. Reaching under my pillow, I grabbed my binder and begun to write.
I owned two binders. Green and White. Green had my words. Things I had written. White was a collection, of everything I loved. Poems, quotes, words, anything. I collected language like old men collected porn.
As my pen smoothed across the date, I started on the third line down and begun to write. The words weren't connected, just a list of adjectives, how I felt. It always started like this. A brain dump. I looked at my list. "Tired, fake, new, old, nervous..." I chuckled. Maybe I should add "conflicted?"
YOU ARE READING
But It Was You Who Left Me
Genç KurguAllie is broken, after her "flirtanshionship" with her best friend.