#claratalks

My worst fear is that ten, fifteen years from now, I’ll be in the office, working, and I’ll get up with my papers for the meeting with the consultants and when I walk into the conference room, you’ll be sitting there, looking a little older, a little worse for the wear, but all the reasons why I fell for you still intact, and afterwards, we’ll make small talk and you’ll tell me all about the woman who gave you that gold band I stared at for the entirety of the meeting and your two daughters and you’ll invite me over for dinner with the family, just so we can catch up some more, and I’ll stand there, barely able to hold back the sadness welling up inside me, as I smile and nod before you ask me for my number and I’ll tell you: “It’s never changed.”

He is tall. He is kind. He is bright. He has the nicest smile, with the cutest dimples. He has wit. He has a charming laugh. He is gentle. He is understanding. He is strong, and brave, and good.

you must think me a yo-yo,  to constantly bring me closer to you, only for you to throw me away.

They asked me what they could do to help me. I didn’t know. I didn’t really expect them to do anything. What can they do? Nothing. I joked around, saying, “What, are you going to tie me down and force feed me?”