This is what it felt like when the slaves were freed

I feel good.

Michael texted last night. We talked and it feels like things are finally over. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to talk, and I’m okay with that. 

I feel free. No chance of having him back has given me a way to move on. 

If the world were perfect, I would’ve liked to be able to chat with him on occasion. He feels I’m not over him. I think a good description of where I was… I was on the edge of a blade; I could go either way. His telling me to move on pushed me to one side. I’d been waiting for him to say something, and I got a something. 

I’ll miss our conversations. I’ll miss him. I’ll miss you, Michael. I know you read this shitty blog, you fuck.

But that’s life, and my life is pretty spiffy. Smiles for miles and enough drink to baptize several children.

2 thoughts on “This is what it felt like when the slaves were freed

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