dog park therapy
- May 29, 2014
- CleanLaundry
- 2 Comments
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I used to be in love with this Vietnamese girl who I swear was a cat in a past life. she was all lithe limbs and pounce and indifference. her smile was sharp and feline but when she was in a good mood she would crawl beside me and tell me stories.
one time she told me her dad abused her when she got bad grades, and I promised I would never lay a hand on her. unless she asked. admittedly, I spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. if she would shut her eyes. if she would sink her teeth into my lip because it wouldnt be a real kiss unless it hurt.
meow.
her parents didn't like me because I was a stray caucasian dog with a tucked tail and I always forgot to take my shoes off in their house.
she was a cat. he was a dog. can I make it any more obvious?
what am I doing?
anyway, this afternoon I took a wrong turn and ended up at a fenced isosceles triangle of green grass and birch trees. and dogs and their suburban owners. I sit down and stay there until it gets dark and cool and I tried not to cry at the dog park because she left and although I'm no longer infatuated by her cat creep I miss the way she would curl into my lap and fall asleep like I was the safest person in the world.