2-9-15
Jillian Nordquist
The day previous was a celebration and four days ahead would be an anniversary, but not obviously, because he broke up with me seven months prior. I don’t really care— do I— that four days from now would be an anniversary and the last seven months could have been days filled with laughter and kisses and gentle touches and hard goodbyes and thrilling hellos and stargazing and wrapped up in blankets listening to the thunder and the rain against the tin roof. Who cares about four days from now? Certainly not I, a feisty, young, independent woman. For I still had happy days and laughter, I just got to enjoy them by myself because that is what I like. I like alone time and nights of endless thinking about how wonderful it shall be four days from now and seven months ahead. The day of yester I was laughing. Four days of morrow I will be laughing and content with thoughts of what was, will be, and shall remain.
Red Weather 87