This is not what I pictured. I thought I’d be older. I thought we would have the kind of mailbox you could hit with a baseball bat from a car. I thought we’d have a car. I thought ”We” would be a thing that I said. I would present things and be promoted for it. I would have a secretary. I would have an office. I would have a house on St. John, one in Aspen, and a flat in New York. I didn’t know what a flat was.
No one would tell me I was pretty anymore. I wouldn’t care if I was. Getting drunk was for teenagers. I wouldn’t laugh when someone said, “it’s floppy.”
I didn’t know that this was when I would start to feel real fire. I didn’t know the sex would be this good, the parties would be this fun, the victories would be…
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