i (i) wrote,
i
i

  • Mood:

pita

I can't stop thinking about her. She heard me singing (badly) for the first time today as we were driving out. She was so curious about these odd sounds coming out of my mouth. She climbed right into my lap and looked right at me. That was a lot less safe than sleeping beside me, which is where she was when it happened. I can see her face with that wrinkled up forehead like it's right in front of me. I left her there in the desert. I couldn't bear the thought of dragging her body back here, for what? She came to me in the desert, and she left me there. Actually, I killed her there, which is what really hurts. There is no reason I should have gone off the road. I have no excuse. But I don't even remember what I did to cause it. I must have done something, but I can't remember. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH.
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