The author has asked to remain anonymous.
Monday came on a sunny summer morning
and criticized your writing and told you that you drew mountains wrong. Monday
chastised you when he flirted with you but asked about your life hopes and
dreams. Monday made you think, and Monday made you confused. He told you that
you had the personality of a prom queen, and laughed when you didn’t
understand. He was 4 years older and mysterious and scandalous. You were young
and innocent and naive; and never had your heart broken. You were scared of
commitment and didn’t want to get hurt because you knew you were going to
leave. Monday wanted to ask you out on a date but you indirectly told him not
to. He tried to make you jealous with a green card marriage even though you
pretended like you weren’t. Then you went away for two weeks and only thought
about him the entire damn time. You fought his crooked smile and his
exasperated laugh. He left without saying goodbye and you hated yourself for
it. You hated yourself for feeling like a part of you was ripped from your bones,
because you swore you would never be dependent. He was the type of boy who taught
you to make milkshakes but then left his sweatshirt in your best friends car
when you went to New Mexico. You missed your chance with Monday, but he
sure as hell taught you something. Monday taught you that to take every chance
you get, and that in the end the pretty girls win.
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