Today's writing

The last time I was here, we’d just come from the Indian restaurant. We were barely speaking at that point. I’d just wanted some coffee. The boys probably wanted to throw me in the ocean. Looking back on it, I can’t blame them.

 

What led us to that? I think that and then I just really want to throttle myself. What indeed. Like I didn’t know? Like I wasn’t there? It was nothing dramatic and interesting like James or me cheating. Nothing too bad like Jax taking up shoplifting or beating the shit out of his fellow students. No, this was garden-variety daily bullshit that built up like plaque, a plague, upon us all. Mornings I woke up late and raging, hand to window, foot to wall. Broken glass and shattered stucco crowded and clouded at my feet; I was a regular at the ER. Each time I was there they asked me about the cuts. “Nothing,” I said. “Nothing.”