there are no words

Continued…
Holy. Freakin. ****. OK. Right. Here’s how I got here. Two months ago I answered an anonymous “Houseshare by University” ad I’d taken from an online accommodations bulletin. I’d never met the poster – Bella – before in my life. Never heard of her. Never knew a thing about her. It was all totally random. Computer generated – random. I moved here a week ago. I know two people in this town. This city. Eliza, who’s from Germany and Peter who doesn’t actually live here but pops in on weekends.

I came out of my bedroom this afternoon and some moppy-headed guy was sitting in the hall. I had to stop for a second because he looked so much like Stephen, this skinny English boy I dated back in Bluefield last year. The one who thought he was a Beatle and had the hair to prove it. Uck. So I went downstairs, messed around in the kitchen some, fought back the automatic gag reflex that pops up whenever I think of his name and then thanked the Good Lord I’d never have to see him again. Ever. He was in Australia.

I just came back to my room. He’s not in Australia. He’s in my hall.

Bella is dating my ex.

23 August 1998