One friend online. Idle. Left a message.
I want a slap.
7 minutes later, my phone rang.
Go on, sap.
Muffled sobs... convulsive breathings... hushed. My refusal to speak didn't stop him to torment me in what he calls one of my-fits, the recounted saga of life's dailiness and its sagging edges. Declivitous. Revealing against my desire. Tears; it pours out my heart.
You chose to be in that tangle. You outline everything in obscure ways, because you think life won't be as carefree without the twists and off-the-beaten-tracks. Why are you crying now?
He said that in pure contemptuous mirth. Succinct and true, like a two-edged sword gashed through me.
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