the lingering of the morning after
i know what she doesn’t know. she knows what i long have forgotten.
Howdy! I re-visited Paris a few times this Spring and I realised it’s my one place we all have. The one that hurt you and put you down so many times, but also heals you whenever you visit or you’re walking through it again. During one of my stays, I was faced with that. Walking down the very same streets another version of myself once did too. And I feel like it’s the one theme I’m writing about the most on my published essays, but maybe that’s the theme of the year - to constantly see and agree to disagree with yourself, face those old dreams and new longings and make decisions that aren’t good, but also not bad.
Howdy Bonnie! is my beloved Substack :) this tip jar is making it possible for you to access it, without having to commit to a subscription or paying for a full month. The minimum amount of this tip equals one week of my Substack. (to my paid subs: i freaking love you - thank you for seeing & reading me!!)
“you feel so good,” he whispers in my ears.
our arms are clutched around each other and it’s so clear that i won’t see him again.
the next morning, i feel dawn coming around and slip out of the bedsheets. they’re expensive, it’s a pleasant change after the amount of times i followed people’s advice of dating boys my age; student boys that only own a single pair of sheets & go out drinking every other night. now, another look around the apartment and i know i’m in an apartment of some rent. in the kitchen, i get myself a glass and fill it up with tap water. it tastes good even. paris tab water usually is a crime. i presume he’s got a filter installed. another sign of price. i try to let it slide and not bother me.
