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dear amaranth, i called you today and your phone was disconnected. i wonder what it means. damiana is, for lack of a better word, a tease. she plays hemlock and me against each other. (i can't help but laugh at her insecurity so transparent, but hemlock is hurt by her meanness, her gluttony.) "she doesn't think about others' feelings," he says, "she'll never understand how much she hurts people." "people that selfish can't love anyone," i say. "i love you," she says in another letter, "please talk to me." no. nonono. how many times does she think i will fall for the same thing? "you should have given me more time," she says with her body. "i've given you a year," i think, hanging up the emotional connection. -eso- |