I heard Mana at the taqueria and momentarily became very sad for the barely existent slivers of him that felt good, which were when he was high, in the very beginning, when it is always good. When it was warm and summer and he was so beautiful to me and the music was good and I just couldn't believe he wanted me, and we were running away and rebelling together... Of course it was doomed to fail, but it was a thrilling little minute of beauty, which was then quickly bludgeoned, abused, and discarded like a passing trend. It had its brief shining moments, but that was then, and this is now. I no longer have to worry or panic. My goodnights and kind compliments flow in without tears now. So goodbye troubled past beau. Go learn and live as I have, because, admittedly, my life is better now. Though, perhaps, you functioned as a catalyst, the struggle that makes the consequent victory so much sweeter. I'll miss you now and then, but less and less, and only for these brief fleeting moments when Mana is playing, and I see the sun setting, and your stupid glasses, and we're squeezing each other's hands again.
1:36 a.m. - 2012-08-29