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You had your heart set on a hummingbird. We were sitting on the porch looking out over the weeds to the neighbour's balcony, its hoard of boxes. "It's evening," I said, "they're all asleep." You leaned back in the plastic chair, eyes still on the feeder. Your chin tilted(more)
Sometimes, I'm amazed by my own ability to survive poverty. I'm even more amazed by how effectively I can hide it. Drinking makes it easier, because drinking erases the future, makes the money flow easily from my fingers. Suddenly, I'm finding an ATM, a late-night pizza place, buying a(more)
Edmonton's Galaxy Land amusement park, an hour away from our home. I was young enough that I don't remember how young I was.

We climbed into a roller coaster: I was in a car with you, my brother and sister in one behind us. I don't remember wher(more)
The hardest part of bulimia is not purging. That's the unhealthiest behavior of the lot. Binging isn't so bad in itself; if you think about it, we have fucking stat holidays dedicated to the act. Obviously not binging would be ideal, but I haven't gotten that far.
"HEAT WAAAAVE!" She sang along with the song. She was a classic queen, not fishy in the least as she towered over us, deep voice booming over the speakers.

I stood behind you, giggling. Her manicured hand reached past your shoulder. "Oh, but you're beautiful, too. My heart(more)
Shit. It's four pm and I haven't taken my meds. I take the full dose anyways, shortly followed by "shocks", so called because its feels like I have five volt battery attached to my fingertips.

I've increased my course load because, otherwise, my degree will take six years(more)
Kissing was always a formality, like pleasant small talk. Maybe you'd do it for hours, but you could breathe a sigh of relief while doing dishes and clearing away empties, knowing you'd successfully navigated another social obligation.
[Please Moderate]: tdlecat commented on your post "My Project Unbreakable Submission"

Why the fuck does someone with generalized anxiety disorder have a blog? Why do I put myself through this?
Light rye, black forest ham, red onion, cheddar, butter. I could feel my stomach turning already. I didn't want to tell you I was hungover because I'd pretty much ended our relationship by drinking too much.

"This salad is red-themed," you said, cutting the tops off of radishes(more)
"C'mon, drink up" you say. I'm propped up on my elbow, my clothes glued to my skin with sweat. I know I'm going to end up throwing this up.

You refill the container and leave it by the bed, instructing me to take sips whenever I notice it(more)
In the blur of strobe lights and liquor, your little body wiggles, your arms occasionally rising above your head, carefree. When my hands find their way to your sides, I feel little folds of fat sitting beneath your bra, my loins stirring.
"Fuck," I think, looking at the dusty planner. "that's due tonight. I haven't even looked at the assignment options."

I put on a pot of green tea, warm up some bean burritos and make my creaky, narrow wicker chair as comfortable as possible. I start working on th(more)
I didn't mean to lie to you. It just came out.

You wanted to know how my date was. I didn't want you to know it was with a woman.

"What was his name?" (more)

"What's wrong?" You sounded mildly annoyed.

"My fucking top slipped while I was leaning over. No wonder the waiter was so nice to us."

"Let me see." I turned and showed you the bit of ribbon-trimmed bra and pink ribbed skin peeking out from beneath(more)
"We're practically dating each other!" you protested, as if that would make things anything but worse.

"We're not dating each other. You're dating me. I'm dating someone totally unlike you, unlike us." My voice was flattened by the anger and embarrassment of your fucked-up incestuous accusations.