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By Wallflower, portland, OR

As I lie here this morning I pray for the motivation to get up and prevent the headache induced by listening to my alarm for another fifteen minutes. For my twelve cozy, enveloping blankets to go poof. And for my cats to not think me so comfortable. Last night wishes for me that I could stay and sleep here forever. God probably doesn’t approve of answering prayers with such miracles. I thought I had you figured out, before we went there. Before meeting the friends you so passionately admire. The scent lingers on my clothes. The smell of their pretentious substance abuse, and of the pressure. On you, on me, on us to do as they do. And you gave in all too easily. And I haven’t come to terms yet to not blame you for when I did the same. You seem to think these people will be taken far by these habits and I can say I put that past you long ago.

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