I’d given up saving the situation. Yes, I knew, and I hadn’t told her. Yes, this Gertrude and Sam thing was my idea, and we’d blown it sky high. Yes, Darcy, I love you, and you hate me, and once again I’ve managed to destroy the best hope I had for any kind of salvation through a relationship.
She didn’t spit on me. She didn’t slap me. She didn’t even look at me. Or anyone else.
She just walked out, leaving the door swinging open as she went.
Sam started to follow her, but Millie held her hand and stopped her.
I don’t know how long I stood there, but after a few years of it, I left, alone, and took a cab home.
Made a stop on the way there and bought a bottle of Old Overholt.
No point buying something expensive when you can’t be sure any of it is going to stay down.
The first year my blog over at Someday Box was live, I posted whenever I felt like it, when something special was going on. When I realized the work I do with Someday Box was our future, I started posting daily.
Except last week.
I’ve been kicking myself for only posting 4 times in 9 or 10 days. Kicking oneself is counter-productive. I cannot move forward while looking backward.