Desperation Devastation
Cleanliness Is Next To Loneliness
I stumbled carefully into my bombshell of a room, making sure not to tread on any miscellaneous CD cases or pierce myself on a hidden spiky cuff.
Yet all I felt on my bare feet was an unfamiliar brand of clean carpet.
My room was clean and tidy.
My eyes widened in surprise as I discovered the actual colour of my carpet; a light ash gray. Even Tayler's bed was made, with fresh sheets.
"What the fuck?!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls, displaying just how empty my room now was.
OK, Emile, calm yourself down and think. I flomped myself onto my bed, sinking into my indigo mink blanket.
I felt something jab into my cheek as I was hurled into my emerald satin pillow. OK, now this is just plain annoying, what the fuck is happening?
My fingertips curled around the corner of what seemed to be a paper envelope.
I pulled the envelope out and examined it.
Lance's slanted handwriting graced the outside of the envelope, spelling out; "My Dearest Emile."
I ripped the top flap open and a small note of pale sketching paper fell onto my bed.
I picked it up and read.
Emile,
I'm really sorry about our fight this morning, and I think we need to just take a breather.
As you've noticed by now, I've decided to move back into my old flat on the other side of town. I guess I kinda contributed to the huge mess in yours and Tayler's room, and yes, men can clean.
So if you ever need to talk to me, you know where I live and when you think you've calmed down, call me and we can sort things out.
Love, Lance.
It took me awhile to get over the shock of seeing my room like this, vacuumed and without mess. But the shock soon turned into rage.
The nerve of the bastard! Making out that this was all my fault!
"Asshole!" I screamed out loud into the empty house, collapsing in an emotional heap onto my bed, sobbing into my pillow.
Yet all I felt on my bare feet was an unfamiliar brand of clean carpet.
My room was clean and tidy.
My eyes widened in surprise as I discovered the actual colour of my carpet; a light ash gray. Even Tayler's bed was made, with fresh sheets.
"What the fuck?!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls, displaying just how empty my room now was.
OK, Emile, calm yourself down and think. I flomped myself onto my bed, sinking into my indigo mink blanket.
I felt something jab into my cheek as I was hurled into my emerald satin pillow. OK, now this is just plain annoying, what the fuck is happening?
My fingertips curled around the corner of what seemed to be a paper envelope.
I pulled the envelope out and examined it.
Lance's slanted handwriting graced the outside of the envelope, spelling out; "My Dearest Emile."
I ripped the top flap open and a small note of pale sketching paper fell onto my bed.
I picked it up and read.
Emile,
I'm really sorry about our fight this morning, and I think we need to just take a breather.
As you've noticed by now, I've decided to move back into my old flat on the other side of town. I guess I kinda contributed to the huge mess in yours and Tayler's room, and yes, men can clean.
So if you ever need to talk to me, you know where I live and when you think you've calmed down, call me and we can sort things out.
Love, Lance.
It took me awhile to get over the shock of seeing my room like this, vacuumed and without mess. But the shock soon turned into rage.
The nerve of the bastard! Making out that this was all my fault!
"Asshole!" I screamed out loud into the empty house, collapsing in an emotional heap onto my bed, sobbing into my pillow.