Less Than Three

Chapter 30: An Exercise in Decision Making

Friday, June 27 2:15 AM Term of the Day: Mea Culpa - Admission of guilt

It all seemed so easy when you held my hand.

sergio: He's home then?

summer: yes.

sergio: And?

sergio: Summer?

summer: i don't know. i just. don't. know. deleting. deleting.

sergio: WAIT!

I hit the delete key one more time before I crawled into bed. I watched the shadows cross my ceiling for a long time after that. You know, if you concentrate on them hard enough, you can see stuff up there. People mostly. They dance and play – in the shadows, that is. But none of it is real. None of it.

Real is your boyfriend coming home.

***

10:34 AM Bonus Term of the Day: Metaphor - Figure of speech in which a word is used in place of another

My Horoscope: Whether you realize it or not, conflicts are brewing with you at the center. You may be asked to make what feels like an impossible choice. Don't let your feelings trick you.

Lovely.

Think I'll listen to PaperKut for a bit.

I dialed Madison's number on the way to my room but I hung up before it could ring. I flopped on my bed and scrolled through all of my PaperKut songs, but picking just one of them seemed impossible.

11:16 AM The weather is wired/weird. Sunny, rainy, sunny, rainy. Indecisive. Kind of like me.

BTW-Gordon Toledo rocks. I am not indecisive about that. I wish he would knock on my door and take me away from all this -- or at least accompany me to Windmill Days.

Maybe your town has some kind of cool festival, a few days set aside to celebrate punk rock bands or skateboarding? Even ice cream would be good. But that's not New Concord. In New Concord, Indiana we celebrate windmills. They used to build them here or something.

Don't get me wrong. Windmills are okay. I loved them when I was a little girl. And on breezy summer nights you can still find my group of friends sneaking out to the fairgrounds, where a dozen of them spin in the moonlight behind the little league field. It's pretty freaking amazing, really. I mean, you're skipping along to the hum of all that wood and metal when all of a sudden something changes. Clack-a-clack-a-clack and whoosh, the sky above you twists in an entirely new direction.

Alas, all that coolness does not translate into festival-ese. Not unless you want to count all of our dads, who dress up in homemade suits of armor like Don Quixote (some character in a book). The elephant ears are good though. And everybody goes. You practically have to if you live here.

The question is: Who will I go with? The boy who thinks things are still humming along? Or the one who has blown away my heart and sent it whooshing in an entirely new direction?

11:50 AM Gah.

11:57 AM An Exercise in Decision Making

Dog or Cat? A toughie right off the bat. Dog, no Cat, no ... hamster?