and somehow this isn't the last day of our lives.
me: this is surreal.
him: i can't do this.
me: how am i going to hold down a job?
him: what if my dorm burns down?
me: what if your dorm burns down and i have to hide you in mine?
him: shit, nina, they just called your name!
me: i am resisting the urge to run out of this place.
him: go!
me: you can't make me!
him: they called your name again!
me: fine! ugh, i'm going.
him: and we're off.
endless scraps, with his name scrawled all over them.
YOU ARE READING
little talks
Randomi needed to write down almost everything he had said, to reassure myself that he had been real, that we were something that lasted; at least for a little while. - nina [ © jude rigor two-thousand-&-thirteen ]
