{28th august 2013}
dear jen,
swing: creak
swing: creak
swing: creak
swing: creak
me: christ, could you be any more noisy?
swing: creak
swing: creak
swing: creak
me:
me: looks like i've made a habit of talking to inanimate objects.
swing: creak
me:
swing: creak
me:
swing: creak
me: shit.
me: you know, i -
you: hey, stranger.
me:
me:
me:
me: hey.
me: i, uh, i didn't see you.
(you sat down on the swing next to mine.)
your swing: creak
my swing: creak
me:
you:
me:
you:
your swing: creak
my swing: creak
you: so how've you been?
me: oh, you know.
my swing: creak
me: as good as you can be, with school next week and all.
(you laughed. i don't know why. i guess maybe it was funny. i don't know.)
you: yeah, school isn't all that great. but hey, senior year, right? should be awesome.
me: i guess.
your swing: creak
my swing: creak
me: better than this past year, at any rate.
my swing: creak
you:
me:
you:
me: sorry. i shouldn't have said that.
(you know how sometimes people's voices go all soft when they feel sorry for someone? yeah, your voice went all soft.)
you: you can always say what you want. you know that.
my swing: creak
your swing: creak
me: why do you even do it?
you:
you: what?
me: why'd you bother talking to me? i'm pretty sure you could have easily just...not.
your swing: creak
you: i like you.
me: you like a clinically depressed idiot with a dead best friend?
