mark swerdlik's bathroom floor

add my program director's porcelain tiles to the list.

i tried to hide this feeling, especially in front of the professors. but how am i supposed to hide from something that feels so mind-numbingly shattering? i didn't do very well. renee gave me a very orange hug and said, "are you okay? no. you aren't. but you will be."

you ruined my last school psychology picnic. you ruined our plans.

you're too "proud" to ever ask for me back. you shouldn't be. i've always been horribly naive. as much as i know that i should just move on, and i will, eventually, there's always going to be this part of me, like a missing limb, that holds a spot for you. there's always going to be a spot for you. and that's the dumbest thing i've ever wrote, JUST MOVE ON, SARAH, but you know you won't. you know that you never fully will.


the best i ever had.



there AREN'T tiers of people. i do deserve someone who behaves better. "behavior is controllable." you didn't have to kiss her. you better not have cradled her face the way you cradled mine. you heard the word film, you hadn't seen me for a month, i wasn't as available as i normally am because of the biggest exam of my life, you were lonely in your new city, you were in a downward cycle, you drank alcohol, and you went for it. then you lied to protect me. then you're too proud to ask to work through it, even though IT SHOULD BE MY DECISION AND NOT YOURS. and you don't believe in yourself to ask again. you don't believe in yourself enough. i just wish you believed in us enough to.






my phantom limb does.