Status: *any relation to places/persons is not intentional*
Boy Of The Year
Entry 1
Fuck this. Fuck moving. Fuck everything. Fuck this dumb, falling apart, bullshit house. Fuck it.
I hate it.
I hate this town.
I hate my mom.
I hate myself.
I'm Korey, and I hate everything.
My therapist said I should write everything down.
So, fuck this. Fuck it. Fuck you. Fuck me.
Fuck.
It's a really meaningful word, if you think.
Fuck.
It means so much, you know?
It can be the act, like, sex.
Or it can exaggerate something.
Like, "I'm so fucking mad." You're probably more mad than usual.
If you have to use fuck, you have to be passionate. About whatever.
And I'm passionate about how much I hate this town.
But, I tried to make the best of it, for my mom's sake. Because at least she's trying.
So, let me explain my wonderful day.
8:00 am- We move in. The house was honestly, like, really decent looking. But in a haunted way, like a don't go downstairs alone after 9 p.m. haunted. Like, terrifying.
8:05 am- Thought about killing myself.
Actually, that's like every second throughout everyday so, in order to save space, you should probably just assume I'm thinking about it every second of the day. I'm probably thinking of it right now.
Everything else was just moving in stuff. The real fun happens at the coffee shop, around 3 o'clock.
Baxendale is basically any "cute", quiet, homely little town in America. Where you drive through the town in about 6 seconds.
But it has great coffee.
And for a 17 year old with the same love for coffee has a 45 year old man, that's important.
Really important.
It's called "Friend's Cafe". I really don't know why.
But I also don't really care.
I ordered just plain, black coffee, and they served it in a mug. Just a regular mug, that I'm pretty sure I own at home.
Which was different.
So, while I was setting up my coffee, with cream and sugar and the rest of the works - she walks in.
Her.
The girl.
The one who I'm nearly certain I fell in love with, but I have no idea why.
She walked in, wearing black leggings, hiking boots and a Ohio University crewneck. Her light brown hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders. She wasn't wearing any makeup. But her hazel eyes stood out, like a spot of dirt on a white car.
Wait.
That isn't romantic.
Her eyes were just really noticeable. And beautiful.
And she sat at my table with me, dipping her tea bag in and out of her hot water. And she just stared. And I stared too, and I fell in love.
She spoke twice, and her voice was perfect. She was perfect.
"Did you just move in?"
I nodded. I was so scared that if I spoke, I wouldn't be able to stop. I was terrified that "Yeah... I love you." would come tumbling out. Or that my voice would break right on "yes". Because that kind of thing happens to me.
"Oh, well, welcome. I hope I'll see you again."
And then she got up, and got a book from the shelf, and walked out. With her mug.
The cafe's mug.
Maybe, it was a subtle sign that she'd be back. Maybe I'm over thinking it.
But I really want to see her again.
I hate it.
I hate this town.
I hate my mom.
I hate myself.
I'm Korey, and I hate everything.
My therapist said I should write everything down.
So, fuck this. Fuck it. Fuck you. Fuck me.
Fuck.
It's a really meaningful word, if you think.
Fuck.
It means so much, you know?
It can be the act, like, sex.
Or it can exaggerate something.
Like, "I'm so fucking mad." You're probably more mad than usual.
If you have to use fuck, you have to be passionate. About whatever.
And I'm passionate about how much I hate this town.
But, I tried to make the best of it, for my mom's sake. Because at least she's trying.
So, let me explain my wonderful day.
8:00 am- We move in. The house was honestly, like, really decent looking. But in a haunted way, like a don't go downstairs alone after 9 p.m. haunted. Like, terrifying.
8:05 am- Thought about killing myself.
Actually, that's like every second throughout everyday so, in order to save space, you should probably just assume I'm thinking about it every second of the day. I'm probably thinking of it right now.
Everything else was just moving in stuff. The real fun happens at the coffee shop, around 3 o'clock.
Baxendale is basically any "cute", quiet, homely little town in America. Where you drive through the town in about 6 seconds.
But it has great coffee.
And for a 17 year old with the same love for coffee has a 45 year old man, that's important.
Really important.
It's called "Friend's Cafe". I really don't know why.
But I also don't really care.
I ordered just plain, black coffee, and they served it in a mug. Just a regular mug, that I'm pretty sure I own at home.
Which was different.
So, while I was setting up my coffee, with cream and sugar and the rest of the works - she walks in.
Her.
The girl.
The one who I'm nearly certain I fell in love with, but I have no idea why.
She walked in, wearing black leggings, hiking boots and a Ohio University crewneck. Her light brown hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders. She wasn't wearing any makeup. But her hazel eyes stood out, like a spot of dirt on a white car.
Wait.
That isn't romantic.
Her eyes were just really noticeable. And beautiful.
And she sat at my table with me, dipping her tea bag in and out of her hot water. And she just stared. And I stared too, and I fell in love.
She spoke twice, and her voice was perfect. She was perfect.
"Did you just move in?"
I nodded. I was so scared that if I spoke, I wouldn't be able to stop. I was terrified that "Yeah... I love you." would come tumbling out. Or that my voice would break right on "yes". Because that kind of thing happens to me.
"Oh, well, welcome. I hope I'll see you again."
And then she got up, and got a book from the shelf, and walked out. With her mug.
The cafe's mug.
Maybe, it was a subtle sign that she'd be back. Maybe I'm over thinking it.
But I really want to see her again.