Only truth - by Evana - arbiter of distaste

Late November saw me walking up and down the avenue that would eventually connect our apartments. On many mornings, pushing the limit of what would be an acceptable start time for work, I’d be in my day-old clothes clutching my phone, checking to make sure no one noticed my tardiness (they didn’t). I pushed time because I thought it was a matter of time before my tendency to make grand declarations would bookend us. I thought what we had was far more precarious than it was. The early days of seeing someone convince you of many things. That you’re a breath away from fucking things up at all times. But also that the consequences of bending some rules are worth it for a few more minutes in that person’s arms. On these walks home, I would think about the past summer. For months, I’d been circling you without knowing it. I ran down the avenues of our shared neighborhood in the early evening, chasing the waning light like my photographer friend had invited me to do on so many aimless weekend

Late November saw me walking up and down the avenue that would eventually connect our apartments. On many mornings, pushing the limit of what would be an acceptable start time for work, I’d be in my day-old clothes clutching my phone, checking to make sure no one noticed my tardiness (they didn’t). I pushed time because I thought it was a matter of time before my tendency to make grand declarations would bookend us. I thought what we had was far more precarious than it was. The early days of seeing someone convince you of many things. That you’re a breath away from fucking things up at all tim