»i'm gonna head to susi's. but i can't drink anyway 'cause i took a painkiller.«
»oh, okay.«
»you want a kebab when i come back?«
»yeah, sure. get me two.«
»ok, but 'm not back before eight.«
»kay«
•
20:55
on my way
•
22:10
do you still want kebab?
...yes
•
22:40
»they're closed.«
»oh, okay. well, uh, i mean... i guess i need to eat something else then.«
»sorry, i just drove by. i could get you some mc donald's? or you eat a bread at home?«
»yeah, okay.«
-
i know that you need your time, time with friends and that you still have your own life, but you somehow always disappoint me. i know that this sounds like a rich child who didn't get the 30.000€ clock they wanted for birthday.
but especially when i was younger, i trusted you. i really thought you'd be home by 21:10, latest, if you told me you'd be home by 21:00.
or if you said you'd just be gone to get some groceries i was sure you'd be home within an hour. i just- because of the fact that you couldn't drink alcohol today i was thinking you'd really be home at eight o'clock.
i now know how it gets most times when you're out without me shopping or something like that. and it still upsets me when you're not home until at least eleven pm. it still gets to me. it still hurts me.
see, there's so many things i swallowed down over the years, that i really wanted to tell you but didn't have the guts to, and now that something bursts out, i have to stop mid-thought because it gets too much for me.