#4: Mark, 1994

A California beach, where I ran through wet sand, and horizons covered in early
morning fog. Coming back to our overpriced studio apartment on a boat-lined canal
swigging orange juice from the plastic container before fucking him awake. Two years
later, we said goodbye over a tear-streaked phone call and I wanted to die – to walk off
into the ocean on a foggy morning tide.

#5: Austin, 1996

Another Cali beach just up the coast, we hid away for a couple of months both of us in
pieces we took comfort in each other’s brokenness. Long moments deep in the night
desperately trying to glue each other back together. The hours we spent just being
quiet, anchored to that beige couch and running my hands through your hair over and
over and over and you letting me. I could have loved you forever, but we were still
shattered inside. We said goodbye standing in a door frame -- your words echo in my
mind – I should have kissed you one. more. time.

#6: the alcoholic, 1998

Norfolk side streets gritty with sand, the Atlantic ugly and thrashing. Too drunk to run I
walked for hours. Avoiding the two bedroom lead painted hole in the wall where he
would be drunk – chasing his only true love - alcohol, sometimes I still check the obits
hoping he’s dead already and it’s been two decades. I drove away from him on a
Saturday morning – stopping only to throw the ring into a ditch. This time I felt alive.
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