The first time my first boyfriend broke up with me- there were many times- I ran after him, screaming and crying, as he walked out of my house and to his car. The neighbor across the street watched it all. Core memory, for better or worse. I can’t remember what it looked like very much, but I can still vividly recall how it felt.
Hot tears smeared across my nose. Hot rage in my hands and my cheeks and my ears. My bare feet running over jagged sidewalk, and then sharp blades of grass pricking up between my toes.
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