Monday, September 6, 2010

Thread of a Text Message.

Walking down a random street in Paris, my phone chimes with a text message.

A Random Street in Paris.

I look down at the message: "I think I want you back." he says.
"I think I want you to go to hell." I think back, but don't text in return as I hit the delete key.

Rhianna's duet lyrics of 'I Love the Way You Lie' play through my mind:

("You don't get another chance. Life is no Nintendo game.")

Still the thought of being with him again, pulls on my strength like a loose thread unraveling a hole in a favorite sweater. The strength to never call, never text, never think of him again, weakens with one message from him.

I blog and write to pull it all together with matching thread to close the hole; now almost unnoticeable to the naked eye. Almost never seen, like a deleted text message.


  1. Go for it. If it doesn't work out at least you will know for sure and not have regrets the rest of your life!

  2. He only wants your body.