“She hasn’t even called me. It’s been days. Maybe that means I should call her, but I refuse. It feels like a setup. Is she waiting for me to call all freaked out and crying? Does she have some speech lined up? I don’t know. I hope she does. I hope that just like I’m here feeling all fucked up, that she’s there wondering why I haven’t responded. I refuse to give her that. I’m not going to let her hear me cry or feel the weight of my rage and sadness. If she thinks about me at all this summer, I’d rather it be with a question mark pressing down on her rib cage.”
