If my father thinks that writing boneheaded notes
is going to change my mind,
he’s delusional.
Well, he must be delusional
to have made the promises
during those special “it’s me and you,
Maisie” conversations we had
and then suddenly fly the coop.
Did it ever occur to him
that I’ve had enough rejection
to last a lifetime?
No, it didn’t; I didn’t occur to him.
I ask Rachel if I can sleep over.
I still haven’t told her about temple.