You’ll find the obliqueness of it here.
The various spheres of my life are such that people from one are rarely aware of how I’ve hurt people in the others. I suppose that’s a blessing. But it’s allowed me to get away with more than I should have.
There are girls I’ve told were beautiful, and that was always true. And to those same girls I said that I would come back, and that never was, even on the rare time that I meant to. Others still, I told them what my intentions were, how brief our time together would be. But I let them get close just the same.
Some were broken; one girl told me, as she smoked on a porch in February wearing neither shoe nor sock, that she was going to fix me. That same girl, two months later, passed me at a party and dragged me into a niche between a shelf and a wall and shouted over the house music I’ve stopped needing you, yeah? Don’t you get it? I don’t need you anymore.
