why am i soft in the middle?
I had gotten into the habit of using euphemisms - a lot of them, too. I punched out fifteen, twenty texts a day: “last night was fun lets do that again” and “can i crash at ur place tonight?”
A few times, I typed out all the letters in “i miss you” and just as quickly rolled my thumb over the backspace button.
I also spent a lot of time practicing conscious, calculated indifference. I’d wait just a little too long to reply. Show up drunk. Walk out before he woke up. Between kisses, his face would hover over mine, tentative, and I’d breathe into the dark, “This doesn’t have to mean anything, you know.”