I don't know what's with the girls in sweaters, it's sweltering. There was a girl standing in the parking lot outside the library, wearing a green sweater and smoking aggressively to cover up the fact that she was trying not to cry, and it was funny because I'd just been thinking, it's always the sad girl who owns the room.
---
I was back with an old boyfriend, before things exploded into ugliness, back when there was only silent discomfort and awkward lack of conversation. He'd driven a long way and had instinctively known where to find me - without hesitation he drove straight to the ratty diner where I was walking around and around, frustrated, crying, looking for an empty seat that wasn't there. Even in the dream, I knew it was creepy that he'd found me so easily. I couldn't have hidden if I'd tried.
We sat in his car in the parking lot and I rubbed his head and tried to look happy. He just stared at the steering wheel and mumbled. There was nothing to talk about and that's always how it had been. We were both trying so hard to fake it and I didn't know why he had even bothered coming to find me and he didn't know either. It was exactly as it really had been with us and I woke up feeling as dead as I always, always used to feel.
