all day i have been hearing comments about my dress. my you're looking bright today, you look like a little green ladybug, you're awfully colorful, etc. this morning i sewed my finger, the needle in next to my nail and scraped down as i jerked away. a bloody mess, but none of the fabric ruined. i'm making ann a black shirt like the grey one i made for myself. she liked it and when we were shopping we saw something similar and she said she'd pay me to make one, but i'm making it for christmas instead. i woke up early because i had to come into work today at three and i wanted to sew and i had no black thread and i wanted to run 3 miles and i needed to clean and also the catboxes and there were no dishes left in the cabinet. by the time i got home from the gym and with my thread and bathed and dressed and put my potato to baking there was only little of an hour left. there has been no time. all my time is spent sit sit sitting here at the library drinking coke zeros with heavy eyelids. i really would like to stop my mind. it's the finding little bits of him everywhere. a sock in the laundry, a tshirt, a tiny bottle of hotel lotion. today it was mcdonalds monopoly game pieces from his mcnuggets, fries, and quarter pounder scattered underneath a box of envelopes. he doesnt have to deal with that, the finding bits. and hearing that song. if we ever had a song be our song i guess it'd be that one. not that it was ever ours but maybe more when i hear this i think of you and it was part of another drunken mess of confessions from his mouth early on. i wonder if he remembers. i took his pictures off the wall and put a smaller version of them on my dresser. i don't know. if i could change his mind, i would. i wish things were different, but maybe i was meant for someone who doesn't leave. he won't think that's fair of me to say. he tried. he gave it his best.

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