Vanessa was no idiot. She knew what was happening but still tried to fix it. I made sure that she couldn't, using precise wording and timing to deliver a painful goodbye with surgical precision.
This week’s theme: Cleanliness; also, a remix of Mani's Home Depot entry.
I listened to her complain for a while and asked her if she wouldn’t rather come to Europe with me rather than waste away her summer there. She answered that she would, agreeing finally and at the last minute to come. I laughed at her. I didn’t believe she would come.
I’ll never force my way past the walls of a girl’s pseudo-moral denials of pleasure.
You take her hand and put it against your straining hardness, hoping against your ever-increasing cognizance that she’ll do it, that she’ll act on impulse and please you.
For better or worse, I refused. I told her that I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Thus started the next three torrential years of my life with Christina, artsy Christina, parasitic flower whose maintenance killed me and whose beauty would made me glad to die in such service.