Image Source: Ashley Noelle
Somewhere in Oklahoma
Downpour on the roads.
Lila split last night. Came back to the apartment after work; nothing left. I didn’t have much of anything of my own there, so I left a check for two months rent, grabbed my clothes and split myself. Can’t stand the thought of hanging around Austin by myself.
Christ, I’m a cliché now. I’m pulled over at some abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, having driven all night, riding out a cloudburst writing obnoxious sap in a journal. But damn, this sucks.
Someone leaves you, they don’t just take themselves and end a relationship. They take an entire time-frame. It’s everything. Everything that was on the radio, every place you ate at, all your mutual friends, all your plans, everything. And all of that stays, but it’s not yours anymore. Like someone steals your car and offers you a ride in it.
And I’m not feeling sorry for myself, but…
And I don’t hate her, but…
So I’m writing this now at 24 and dumb. I wonder if I’ll read this when I’m 40. I wonder if it will be like seeing 15 year old film of the guy who does the weather report, when he was thinner, darker hair, fewer lines and creases, different wardrobe. I wonder if I’ll even remember who she was or what was on the radio or what that restaurant was.
I can’t wait to get there, because it hurts like hell now.