May 15, 2017
I'm dressed to the nines and unpleasantly sober and I haven't told you that I'm coming over. I walk toward your room in my black leather heels and from down the hall boom inconsiderate peals of loud laughter. It's late. They'll wake up the whole floor. Then I, rounding the corner, catch sight of your door swinging shut, and the laughter is suddenly quiet. I freeze for a moment, refusing to cry. It's a hasty retreat that I beat in that second, so no one will know I was here. Should have reckoned you wouldn't be lonely, tonight of all nights. You have friends you would actually want to invite.
“Twofold Jealousy”