I am watching you do your unbearable chores. The insurance claims from four months ago, when you got a concussion. The water bill. The expense claims for a job you hated. And this is playing because you like the way it makes you feel in moments like these. I hate it. Or, I just don't love it. But I love you and I love how you look, like, you've got it all figured out. And I am over here with nothing figured out except... except the certainty that if you looked over any moment now, my heart would skip a beat.

I am upset because you said you will come, and then you didn't, and you had thought of a good excuse, and I couldn't poke any holes in it, because you are too good at winning arguments, like you have a PhD or something. But I have a heart.

It was summer. We were hot and young and staying in hostels. I made so many mistakes, just to forget about the hard year and the pain in my stomach, the money running out. We went to see an old church and then came home at noon to do it till the condoms ripped, and I hated how the morning after pill made me feel. You won't remember it, but I played this a lot then.

This isn't for you. This is for me. I'll play this when it's over cuz I'd wanna know what's wrong with me.