Author: SMWrites1993

Okay this is a part of a series of posts! My first big one for writing, so please let me know what you think, and do you want more?

I spent the last few days calming down my nerves. Working my day job in the office, feeling unwinded from the conversation we shared. They were good enough to not start making demands, but we took things slow. They asked about sending one photo a day of my face, nothing else, for them to see how I am doing. It was like SnapChat, just one sided from following instructions. They sent praises to me. Sometimes asked me requests of different hairstyles, even make-up. I did not mind, it’s not like the internet hasn’t got my face on it through all my social media platforms. I heard the usual chime from my phone, a quick glanced over at it, noticing the recent text they sent me. In what felt like an entire hour than a minute for me to register what they wrote — I am near your way this weekend. For a gathering. Are you interested in meeting in person? Butterflies rose inside. I asked what kind of gathering. In response to the type of people you could meet in Darkest Dreams but IRL. Real life, I wondered how that would go. I asked if my roommate could come to the gathering. Fear of beating alone with a stranger, yet they didn’t feel too much like a stranger. I am sure Ann could handle herself, it’s not like I did not see her in her underwear around the apartment. I watched the three dots waving as they wrote their reply: Sure. The more the merrier. Read more »

Okay this is a part of a series of posts! My first big one for writing, so please let me know what you think, and do you want more?

I sat on the armrest of the couch, sliding backwards to sink deep, lying on my back. Raised one arm across my eyes, hiding from the world. “Okay, so still in stage one of grieving over being dumped?” my bestie/roommate, Ann asked. I groaned in agreement and frustration. “Not so much as in stage one, but considering returning to it,” I mumbled. I hear the ruffle of the magazine once held by Ann’s hands now smacked down onto the coffee table. “Bad date, huh?” she asked. “Bad rebound. How the hell did I think fucking Tinder will fix my needs!” I rubbed my temples in frustration. The date was awful. Not only did the woman think she knew it all, she reminded me of my Ex. Kat and my relationship ended the awful reasons we would not click intimately. Fudge-fuckery, I cursed inwards. Ann took pity on me and offered to make some coffee to tide over the miserable mood I was in. I sat up in time to listen to Ann in the kitchen fixing the drinks. I browsed through my phone, checking any notifications. Between the last time I checked and now, one message caught my interest. Heat rising from what I thought was an area to never awaken so soon after being dumped. Read more »