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she didn't care.
it had been such a dorky period of time that she'd just finished a christian novel she'd gotten from the free book library outside her pizza place about overcoming demons on Christmas Day and marriages - and she had wept.
Her face was puffy from her debauchery, and she was so much fatter, but she didn't care.
the orange cat was laying on the sofa splayed out all sleepy.
The sink was full of dirty dishes.
The robot had advised her that the man she loved would never contact her again.
she had told him that he was still a little boy using me to get back at his mother - and I change places with the revolving cast of females while he sits in his Batchelor castle.
none of it mattered.
the sky was kind of light even though it was night. it wasn't the moon, but maybe it was. who cared.
the heating pad on her bed was on.
she was going to be warm.
it was going to be an ice storm in Athens and maybe nothing here.
she would fuck around on the iPad that had been the first Christmas present from the man who had loved her for being a truth teller then beat her senseless eight years later when she told the truth.
it was all
whatever.
she breathed.
she was alone.
she was the perpetual fifth wheel.
good night.
I love. you again and always and nothing you can do can dissuade me.
it is because
I don't know why.
do I need to know why? but I hope it ends soon. the pain and blood kind of annoy.
and there was a storm coming, but it will be so peaceful.
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