stolen stories
You told me you loved him, and I went to another window to hunt up his
webpage and steal his stories. Sorry about that. Sorry about when I got
that suspiciously similar haircut, and when I started pretending I like
The Clash. Sorry for that fake accent. I’m really sorry I bought that
motorcycle, but I’m glad you went to see me in the hospital. But that’s
not why I crashed, it wasn’t part of some plan. I was never at that point.
Sorry I came over to watch Dark Shadows with you when I was just getting
off work and you were just getting up, mostly because I read your diary
while you were in the shower. Sorry I tried to sneak a peak as you changed
clothes. Sorry I made you all those mixtapes. Sorry I went to the library
and checked out the 1990 high school yearbook to see what you used to look
like, and sorry I photocopied your picture. Particularly sorry about that
night I called your mom. Sorry for coming to your wedding and making that
scene at the dance, and for spending too much on the gift, and sorry for
throwing up on your nephew Matty. Sorry I cribbed those love letters from
James Joyce, and for sending them at all. Sorry for the collect calls, and
for that night I sat in my car in front of your house for an hour. Sorry I
said hi to your son as he was walking home from school. Sorry the only
reason I’m leaving this message is the hope that you might call me back.
You know the number. So okay then. And I’m sorry for everything else.
Sorry your husband is gonna get this message and erase it before you get
home. Sorry, Dave. Okay, that’s enough, that’s enough.
(12:25.05.19.2005) [/scrytch] #