where do i start? it took me 3 weeks to write about my wild time in STL. mostly because i had horrible writer’s block about it. do you know who gave me words to write? Colt.
he came up here last weekend for a covert operation. i only got to see him for a moment, his mom was being creepy and hanging around too much.
he’s thinner, tanner.
i think Jeffery’s dead.
he gave me a magic towel that had the Hulk on it (which begs the question, who is my favorite Avenger? do i even have one? i pray to the Hulk, so he’s more of my god than anything else).
and him coming up to see me, being a year after that night i lost off my shit in the grotto (thank you Timehop) just, gak.
so many feels, so many tears, so much i don’t know and can’t find words or pics to put it down.
i’m not going to reshash what i have said so many times.
and the things, the “cuz we’re connected” things. that Friday afternoon i got, like mini panic attacks with thoughts of seeing Avengers with Colt. unbeknownst to me, his ass was heading north towards me.
and that’s another thing, he never tell me directly about this. it’s not like coded txts, it’s on fucking social media. like, i’m not good enough to be told. i got to play this game.
i been burn by this. once upon a time, i thought i could patch things up with [previous encounters] but the one time he called me, and said he was in town and then left…
i don’t want to be treated like that. not by my DarkShark.
and like the whole weekend, “Stay With Me” was back on the radio.
i saw him. i cold write my weekend at Nicole’s. i wrote a poem. words, words came out of me. words are coming out of me.
words and Colt do not go together. i have tried to write, and end up with stick figures to tell the story.
not this time. i have words.
what is going on?