Minnesota backlog

[fuckatherine]

It is so good to touch grass sometimes. And gash your knee on a rock. Minnesota feels so, so far away from Providence—because it is—and the emotional lock of the city's geography is, at least temporarily, undone. There are decisions to be made when I return. Well, actually, I guess I've made those decisions already. I just need to execute them. But a choice holds no weight without an accompanying action.

I feel more jaded lately. Or maybe distance has made me bold. The heart has not grown fonder, it has grown weary and honestly a little resentful. My turn to be the asshole?

YOU WILL NEVER SEE
ME AGAIN—NOT IN THE WAY
THAT YOU SAW ME THEN.