apropos of nothing
December 07, 2005
Broken Hearts are for Assholes
Twelve years ago today, wearing a black armband, I was on my way to a candlelight vigil. A memorial.
A man approached me in front of the gallery, pointed to my arm, and gushed about how sad it was, how awful, what a loss, something we'd all remember forever and ever.
Yes, awful. Sad. Scary. We'll all remember.
But even as we were speaking, something felt off.
I was talking about this.
He was talking about this.
But I'm sure we both remember.
Posted by sasha
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