1 You were supposed to be a doctor. If you’re raised by two doctors, you’re also supposed to be a doctor because that is their plan. You would graduate high school and attend some prestigious medical school and they would pay for it and everyone would be happy. Well, you didn’t want that. You always wanted to write. Imagine their disappointment when you told them.
Please don’t label me some kind of spiritualist weirdo or hippie when I tell you this: the blockage to my third eye chakra has been extricated. I walked here in the middle of the night because I needed to be sure. I needed to be here to wait for her. I needed to stand here, on the coast, to see.
Everyone told me: Don’t meet dates online. I’d probably fucked every eligible man on this coast before finally settling down. Before I met my man, sex was boring as shit. I’m faithfully devoted now. We don’t keep secrets. My husband knows my past–so ‘come for me,’ haters!
I work evenings. It’s not uncommon that I arrive home past midnight. Last night around 12:15, I unlocked the door, changed, put on my headlamp, and brought my dog, Maximus, downstairs. We live in some country club condos with miles of sidewalks to explore.
My mother told me she was from the past. She was schizophrenic. It’s a brain disorder. Makes you see, and hear things that aren’t really there. Most people have heard about it.
I enjoy watching the neighbors. I watch them outside, through the window. I think the slimmer is very attractive. They have lived here for a year and I’ve watched them both in that time. The slimmer one has red hair and a strong jawline. Sometimes his hair is more red than now—sometimes it has lighter hues of blonde. Sometimes he keeps it short. Sometimes he keeps it long.
Targeted advertising is getting so out of control as of late. With technology growing at leaps and bounds, you could talk about something as specific as “pointy elf shoes,” your phone will hear you, and Facebook will send up an Amazon advert for genuine elf shoes from Norway while you’re scrolling the next day.
My husband’s been gone. He’s been gone quite some time I guess–a few weeks, I think. Might be 16 days? I don’t know. Them days in the last few weeks have kind of strung themselves together–as they do, you see. I don’t do very well on my own. I can’t quite keep track of things.
So, I’m really happy you’re here. It’s been a while since I’ve had a real “first date.” Has anyone ever told you that you have the most incredible eyes?