Hug goodbye.

A casual see you later.

Thirty seconds down the driveway, his number is blocked and his memory slipped back into the oblivion. As if I’d let a man fuck up my plans right now. That man, at that. Bumbling ‘round, finding footing between letting it completely go and sweet revenge. The contusion left is deep, making my mind rot and rot. This time I feel stupid though. What did I get out of that? A very temporary high? Did I need to cry that badly? How lonely am I? Did I do this to myself? Questions pausing then lingering on the vine.