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3pm 5.4.11

Scene: a messy studio in a loft in the Brewery Artist Colony, Lincoln Heights

“I’m a mess Mo.”

“I know you are.  We’ve been through this.”

“I don’t understand why he went crazy.  They all go fucking crazy.”

“Jena you need to get right with yourself before you’re going to meet anyone else right with themselves.”

“What’s so wrong with me?”

I was a disgusting mess.

A pitiful

disgusting

mess.

My best friend of years had heard this before.  It had been a pattern: amazing off the charts romance, then plummeting drop into nothing.  It used to bother me.  Then something changed.  Perhaps Mo was right in what he told me that day.  Perhaps I was too.

“You need to lock yourself in a room and have a conversation with yourself.  Don’t leave until you can.”

“That’s going to suck dude.”

“I know.  I’ve been through it.  But I’m telling you- you’re never going to get past it until you do that.”

Oh what little did we both know then…

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