Sword stone

Let me tell you a story.

Many years ago I was seeing someone. This person was cheating on their long-time boyfriend, I was making a series of unwise decisions. Early 2012 was the most unwell I've ever been- my medications started grinding into each other, my mood shot up into the stars and danced beyond physical capacity. We hung out at 4am usually, which if you're a manic insomniac is an excellent time. It's the time where no one else will tolerate your rambling bullshit. It's a time where some basic affection is nice, however qualified that affection was.

One day in the early spring, they called in sick. We met up in San Francisco, Japantown. We spent the whole day wandering, looking at Gundam figurines and anime posters. It's a memory I slide into like a hot bath; were the cherry trees blossoming? Perhaps I've jazzed up the memory. I don't take pictures. I checked just now, there's nothing. It's like this day never even existed. I'm manufacturing it for artistic effect. Do I really have enough memories to fill a blog shuffled into the void?

Crucially, this did happen. It was a moment of peace in what was a very long, very difficult year. We fell out shortly after, such is the way of two people crafting a fantasy to break out of isolation.

The last time we talked, they asked me for money. I knew they were in debt. I said no.

They offered sex.

I for once made a wise decision.

Artemis