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I'd better
Capture this before it fades.

Darren came by to give Sarah stuff.

He's moving. To this area. He drives now, too. Gee; he grew up, and I grew fat. Jesus, the revenge never ends.

I'd just come from a workout with Brad. I did well. Prolly be sore tonight. I did some serious treadmilling, a couple of times. Didn't fare as well with the weights -- tried harder, but got tired too easy.

I spotted Sarah outside the building; I hustled over to chat with her. She told me about Darren about to come by. I went, with all intent, to go upstairs and get out of the way. Atop the first flight of stairs, I noticed how hard my spot was to see from below.

I stood there for a while, my legs and heart feeling dead and heavy.

Sarah walked away from my vantage point; aha, a flaw in my perfect plan. Spying abandoned, I went home. She knocked on my door, moments later, my old burned copies of Escaflowne in hand.

Needless to say, Darren comes out the mature one again. He joked about Sarah seeing me more (does he know I live here, too?); I, on the other hand, was shocked, grounded to the couch in awe.

Jesus Christ. Why am I so afraid of this guy?

Maybe I'm turning psychic? I couldn't get him out of my head, and suddenly he actually crops up.

I know. I know that every broken relationship comes with compulsory imaginings of running in to the ex, and how that encounter would pan out.

When I picture a casual encounter with Darren, I keep expecting him to ream me out for breaking his heart.

"Fuck you, whore; you're getting it all back."

Ah, you fuck one fat chick, during a breakup, and suddenly you're persona non existo. I wanted to try the lesbo side, I wanted to break from his sexual advances.

I didn't want to lose him, though.

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*DISCLAIMER
* WHO TF IS ALL THIS??!
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Circa 2010