I carry my MP3 player with me at all times because I don’t want to have to see you (with her). I pretend it’s an object of intense interest, that I can’t take my eyes off it, and hear nothing else but the music.
Archive for the ‘dreams’ Category
Dear Friend M,
You must have been shocked when I cried: “No, we’re different. I’m sure of it.”
But when you said: “We’re the same, I also wanted to be a writer, but I gave it up in high school,” instinct took over me and I wholeheartedly expressed what I believed to be the truth.