I have 23 apps running on my phone and 22 messages I'm using as an excuse to stay online for 21 hours today. "I was just looking at the time," I mumble, unlocking the screen for the 20th time in the last minute.
When I was 19, I slapped him in the cafeteria; there were 18 onlookers, excluding his then-girlfriend, who ruined him completely.
On the 17th he finds a socially acceptable reason to drink his liver away, but in the night of 16th, minutes before his birthday, he stuffs his face with marshmallows and transforms into a Jedi,
mocking me over FaceTime
while fiddling with his nerfgun.
15 years of schooling have taught him to bite the back of pens till they leak ink onto his tongue, and 14 other pages of his sociology project.
We made "Best Friends Forever" bands when he was 13 and I was too in love with the idea of him.
Every New Year's and Birthday's are inaugurated at 12 AM by his shrill enthusiasm, bone crushing hugs and sardonic confessions of his love preceded by his superstitious coercion into wishing our desires at 11:11 PM.
He has 10 bottles of shampoo on his bathroom shelf and 9 of them are empty.
Slithering into my bed when he's upset, this hufflepuff boxed my 8th boyfriend's ears when he found out I was being cheated upon.
When regular 7 'o' clock jogs make him fitter, I order a pack of 6 donuts for us to share over pizza.
5 missed calls from me and 4 hours later, he finally picks up the call.
My anxiety clogged mind can distinguish the blaring of trap music in the background as I sigh for the 3rd time, sickened by his drunken giggling. "Where are you, e x a c t l y, Kiaan?" I enunciate, shoving against liquor filled bodies in a neon rich club, locking eyes with his silhouette across the room. "Aruuuuu, I've been so stupid, Aru.
I've been waiting for you far too long, but now you're here.
Here, it's always going to be the 2 of us, okay?
Cause you're the only 1 for me."