June 15, 1998

My thinking capability will not be polluted with girlie daydreams about falling in love. In my own crowd you make your place while gliding from room to room with a look of confidence. I can fall hard in one day. In the passenger’s seat I talk about being one with nature and my awareness of cruelty while you put out your cigarette by squeezing out the tobacco and stuffing in back into the box looking at me as I flick mine right out the window. The afternoon sun was blistering and you offered me your sweater, but I had to dig in the trunk to find it. Old blue eyes himself is at it again, and while I’m sure that he has had plenty of experience, I am a stranger to this game. Words get stuck in my throat and my non-stop giggling annoys even me though I can’t seem to quit. I keep waiting for you to make the first move but my patience wears thin and a hug at the end of the night is not what I had in mind. Tempted to pick up the phone and dial straight to your machine, but instead I wait in vain. It has been a day and a half and all has been silent. This is why I keep to myself and avoid any potential future relationships. There is too much stress and sadness already occupying my time. How much am I willing to sacrifice? How much are you willing to give? How much longer can I go without a companion? In your presence I feel like a freak.


Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist