BLOG » periods and murderers (part 2):

(CONTINUED FROM HERE)

I called the boy I’d come to New York for. We’d had one epic make out during a previous visit & I wanted so badly to recapture whatever it is i thought we’d had when I’d last seen him. but when i got to his place- it just wasn’t there anymore. and this whole visit was putting way too much pressure on the both of us.

i wasn’t in a good place emotionally either, not just cuz I’d nearly been murdered only moments earlier, but because I didn’t like my body anymore. I’d gained weight since I’d last seen him. and at that time, I thought that what I looked like was the only thing that defined my self worth. I felt needy and aimless. I didn’t feel loved or safe. And it wasn’t this dudes job to provide me with any of that. He was basically a stranger.
and was it just me, or was I like a foot taller than him. I guess I’d never realized how much my head tilted down when we were talking.
I was low. I was depressed. and then I GOT MY PERIOD.

instead of making up an excuse so i could run downstairs to a bodega or something and buy tampons and baby wipes; then swing by a starbux so i could use their bathroom, and buy us two lattes, so i could return with lattes in hand saying something like ‘god, they took forever to make these lattes’ which is what i would do NOW- I went mute and did nothing. he suggested we smoke pot. i really didn’t want to, so i said, ‘ok’.

as usual, the pot made me paranoid as fuck. suddenly every look and move he made was negative and aimed towards me. we passed out at his house… and I prayed I wouldn’t bleed on his sheets.

I left in the morning, without saying goodbye. and we never spoke again. (TO BE CONTINUED)

By: boycrazy on April 20, 2010
Tags: thoughts and stories