I have this thing with thirteenth
s. I wouldn't call them lucky
for me, but I would call them… monumental
The past five months have been long and bizarre and I have yet to figure them out. The first thirteenth, June
, I kissed a boy I wasn't really planning to kiss. The fact that I'd been dating someone else for a year and a half up to that point made it all the more unsuspected. But I'd see the decline of the latter relationship
coming for quite some time; it just took a little push (or a little kiss) to get it to fall off that hill. Then, right around July
thirteenth I finally gave up on the former.
thirteenth I saw the end of my life in sight when I nearly drowned in a scuba diving
mishap. We were thrown up against coral reef
s trying to make our way out of the sea, and I killed hundreds of years worth of growth by stepping on the pieces. I still have the scars from where coral entered my skin
, fighting back against me as it were. One of those scars has something growing in it. I might be coming up for surgery soon.
13th a boy kissed me, and this is the one that really blew me away. My surprise was even greater than it was in June. He was an old, old friend I'd admired for a very long time, and I wasn't ready to kiss
him without caring for him more. October
13th we parted. The shock is actually quite faded now, but I'm still writing poem
s about that one.
… I wonder what will happen today