She races across our bedroom full of anger. If I told you that I didn't understand, that would be the understatement of the year, if not a life time. But she's a female. Yes before you remind me "So am" but I don't believe I show as much.
What am I supposed to do?
She came home. Her long curls of brown hair that were tamed in a high bun were over her shoulders and covering he face. Her blouse slightly undone and bra showing and the small hole in her tights had grown twice it's size.
"What happened ?"
I asked but only after observing that she must have given up on what was supposed to be a fulfilling diet, by eating the waffles I made for lunch.
"Nothing happened" she said.
Stupid me I didn't not analyze it further, instead she sat beside me on the couch and I told her what about what I wrote as if she ever remembered .She still smiled and told me it was beautiful and that no one was like me.
All went according to routine till a couple minutes ago when she got the phone call.
By "the" I mean a phone call since I don't know who it was from or even the subject that was hushly discussed, but the second after she started packing and grabbing her most essential things.
I get out of bed and go to the bathroom.She's now removing her makeup, something she'd never let me witness normally. Her outfit was simple; white v-neck and shorts. Her looks resembling Pamela love very much this instant. She meets my eyes in the mirror as I watch her unveil her face.
" I can't do this anymore... It's not you-"She started saying, crying.
"It's not you it's me...is that what you were gonna say? Where are you going?most importantly,why?" I ask.
I hear an angry voice that is supposedly mine, Now my ears are triying to fuck with me?I guess my heart couldn't do all the work.
No matter that my heart is skipping beats right now and my brain is mangled from the effort waisted on comprehension of all this she doesn't answer my question.Instead walks over to the corner where her pile of necessities she is going to leave with.
I guess she leaving most of her things.
Naive me takes this as a sign that she will be back.
Self absorbed me thinks she didn't want to bring anything that reminded her of me because she loved me to much.
The real me cried herself into the deepest sleep after she left but not before yelling at her and begging for her to stay...
This is a story about
Message from Tray: I don't know...I guess it's a personnel diary of someone trying to forget her roommate? Yes I did right it so I should know but none of the stories are finished. Please comment :)