Setting little fires….
I sabotage myself. I’m attracted to self-torture like a moth to a flame that he lit himself.
Fire # 1
Overanxious and impatient. Weekend trip? In a couple weeks. Just us? It’ll be fun. Romantic. Bed and Breakfast. Wineries. Hole in the wall restaurants. Come on. It’ll be fun.
It would’ve been cheesy anyway.
Fire # 2
Drunk. And Tx…Te…TT… T_E_X_T_I_N_G….
“DrNk and hoRNy 
“
“Well good luck trying to get laid. I’m going to bed, like a responsible law student.”
“come oN, Dnt make me dRunk dail you”
……
Drunk. And. D_A…D_I_L…D_I_A_L_I_N_G.
“Congrashulashiooons! Thiss is yer firsst drunk dial from me! YAY! Are yousssleepin;?”
“I hope to very soon.”
“WHYYYY? You know i drive riight passtyer exit on my way home! Wanna have a little fun?”
“I have a big day tomorrow. I’m going to sleep. Wait, drive? You’re not really going to drive home like that are you?”
“Oh pleeease, I’m not thhaaat drunk. I wasjis kidding!”
“Don’t be dumb.”
“I’m not! I have to go.”
………
Fire #3
I have his password. It’s the only way I can find out what he’s doing now. What he’s been doing since… well, since the spring.
Login.
Inbox.
Heart drops. Heart stops. Stomach flips. Spine shivers. Am I breathing?
I shouldn’t be reading this, I shouldn’t be reading this, I shouldn’t be reading this…
Really? He’s moved on… he really said that to her? He used to say that to me…
That was
Our Thing.
I shouldn’t be reading this, I shouldn’t be reading this. I. shouldn’t.
But I did. And as much as I like to pretend it doesn’t.
It hurts.
One day. Three Fires. Why do I do this.
I want to be as mature as people think I am. I want this new fresh start to be a good one. I want to develop good habits. I don’t want to manipulate, and lie, and play games… only to be left with nothing but a password and regret.
Growing hurts.
