rude_ruca

This morning left my heart heavy, and it's strings pulled on my chin, making my head fall. I didn't eat breakfast because I was peroccupied with throwing ugliness in your direction; it felt like someone had punched me in the throat. I left my hair down today, so my bangs drooped in my face. Every time the phone would sound, I would look just under and through my bangs, probably with some weird, sad, long-eyed glare. I'd hoped every time it rang that line 2 would buzz, 'cause then I would know it's you. I was hoping that my apology was satisfactory, that I could crawl back down interstate 270 to our little apartment and into your arms. The phone, however, never gave way to your voice being on the other end. Nothing compelled you to call to let me know that you understood my stance, or my willingness to help you understand my insanity. Fuck