Nemo

Is it bad that I still feel out of place among my friends?
Or that I remember my daydreams from childhood vividly, while actual events remain so fuzzy on the reel playing in my mind?
My Southern Boy told me that a few months after I broke up with Satan that he talked about me.....
Mostly good things....and then also that he said, "She didn't wait for me. Fuck it, she broke my heart. I'll never forgive her."
And he never did.
I convinced Ivy to call him last week, because we needed a bong.
So we sat on his bed and she said, "It's been such a long time since we've all been here together."
Catwoman was there too, and it felt like old times.
"Don't get all sentimental on me," I replied.
Because the last time we were all there like that things were so different, and it inspired another long pointless chapter in this saga.
It's my fantasy, my sad excuse for a romance novel.
I made them leave soon after, because I couldn't stand being in the same room with him.
And that was the highlight of last week....trying to combat painful memories.
I need a hobbie, don't I?