“I just had a craving.”
As I ate the pasta, I thought about Karla. After I finished the pasta, I thought about her some more.
***
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: March9th 8:54 PM
SUBJECT: Bad
I got mad at my therapist, because I told her I didn’t want to talk about how some days are still hard. I called her a name and felt so bad about it. She’s a good person, and she helps me a lot, but sometimes I don’t want help. Sometimes I just want to be sad.
I also failed my math test today. And I tripped on a curb, and now my ankle is swollen and my body hurts. I’m going to take a long hot bath because that’s the only thing that might help the pain. It’s my go-to when I get flare ups.
Anyway.
It’s a shitty day.
Hope yours is better.
Maybe we can FaceTime later, so I don’t feel so bad.
—Karla
P.S. I think it’s great that you want to be an EMT like your father. I can speak from experience in saying you’re good at saving lives. I think an apprenticeship would be great for you this summer. I just wish you were taking it up here, so we could hang out. That’s just me being selfish. I miss you, but I’m proud of you, too.
P.P.S. I know I’ve said I wanted to be an author, but I’d been thinking lately... what if I opened a bookstore instead? I could sell old, used books and records. Books and records that some might see as damaged goods. It might be a stupid dream, but it’s a dream.
***
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: March9th, 9:30 PM
SUBJECT: Re: Bad
Sorry it was a shitty day. Is your ankle OK? I don’t think I’d like therapy. I wouldn’t want someone asking me about my feelings and why I felt the way I do. My new school sucks, but at least some kids let me eat lunch with them. I think I can manage it a little longer here.
Hey, maybe when I graduate, I can get an EMT job up in Chicago and work with my dad. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?
I’m FaceTiming you right after I send this email.
—Ash
P.S. You would be my favorite bookstore owner.
***
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: March9th, 9:45 PM
