[selected] Self Portrait: Cut the Feels

May 7, 2014 | 3:50 am
Cut the feels pieces

November 22, 2014 | 11:09 pm
Amelia could hear her neighbor through the wall in a loud conversation, but one sided.

Video chat, she thought, because her voice was raised but not in anger as if she were screaming into the phone.

Amelia only got bits and pieces of the conversation—

if you keep crying like this I’ll have to go…
and then “happy birthday” in a sing song way. a genuine, my-face-is-smiling way.

The way you’d sing it to a grinning child.

And Amelia’s heart broke. It was 11pm. A child’s birthday would have to be on the west coast for that to make sense. And then she heard, more quietly, ” yeah I’m still here”

Amelia reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out two earplugs she couldn’t remember when she’d used last. Because this seemed too private, even after quiet hours. Amelia had her own loneliness to deal with, she couldn’t add the deep unshared homesickness of her neighbor through the wall.

She’d smile in the morning when they crossed paths and try not to think about the video chat and try harder not to think about how thin those walls are and all the times her neighbor must have very clearly heard voices from Amelia’s side.

December 3, 2014 | 8:35 pm
Job 38


Writer’s Note: This post is part of a larger series called, “Self-Portrait: [selected] Notes from my Phone.” It’s an experiment with honesty of sorts.


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