Part One of October 

This October is going to be different.I am going to try to remember so that others can learn from my battle scars. The first night we met I was smoking and drinking drinks I invented with silly names. He was my type: tall, thin, and vaguely dangerous. He dressed in all black to not draw attention to himself, but this is before I knew he needed all the attention on him all the time. He sat at his table of friends, eyes downcast and full of an unidentifiable emotion. When he sat, he slouched, his long legs sprawled beneath him. He reminded me of a kid in detention. Like he was in trouble but just waiting to crack a joke.

I watched him probably more than I should have. The drinks made me grab his arm and tug him into a conversation. He left right after exchanging phone numbers with me. After he sat back down at his table, I texted him. I watched him lazily reach for his phone.

His name sounded like glass shattering. It should have been a warning sign.

-L.G.

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