Sometimes it sounded better to wait for the party forever. I wouldn’t ever experience the joy of it, but I’d never experience anything else, either. Like disappointment if it went wrong. That was the thing about disappointment. I couldn’t be disappointed with something that hadn’t happened yet.
As soon as I got home, I ran to the shower, still bawling my eyes out. Tap water joined the stream of tears, spit, and snot running down my face, but while my skin was washed clean, my aching heart stayed untouched.
Across the falls my eyes scan.
Thumb on the button: flash.
The phone slips from hand.
I hear its last sound: splash.
She stared heavily at the cup, swirling the fresh strawberry Frappucino with her straw, but I knew she wasn’t really seeing it. She absolutely hated when the whipped cream on top got mixed into the rest of the drink. She complained that it got too diluted. Meaning she must have had something pretty troubling on her mind.
She lifted the pitch of her voice as she spoke, as if she were jumping over the sentence and trying to sustain the least damage possible.
I saw the world but didn’t register it.
Sometimes saying the name Sadie hurts, like it’s too special to be associated with any dog but my own.
I was so frustrated, I was really considering throwing my phone across the room at this point. The only two things stopping me were one, it was an iPhone, so I didn’t want to damage it, and two, it was still plugged into my computer. That wouldn’t have worked out well.
The more I grow up and learn, the more I understand the true nature of books. They’re not just readers perfectly imagining whatever world the author pours on them, an exchange of images. Writers can put in as many details as they want to try and make their readers receive what they’re imagining, but that’s never going to happen. Everyone’s going to see the same words a different way. Maybe we’re all reading the same book, but we’re creating a thousand different movies.
Sometimes she wondered why she went so much out of her way to save those photos, all those memories that she wanted with equal desperation to forget.