"I had about an hour where I had to fight myself from swallowing all 57 salmon colored pills. I wanted so badly to just take them with a bottle of cheap vodka and slip into a blissful slumber, but you keep holding me back from that."
"You know that's not normal…"
She snorted. "What the fuck is normal in the first place. Normalcy…" she looked up through wispy braches at the gray blue sky and closed her eyes. "I would be in a far worse state if I was normal."
He turned his head so he was staring at her profile as they lay on the dingy plaid blanket that wreaked of dog. She was beautiful, and unbelievably wounded. He inched his hand so it was lying next to hers and extended his pinky so that it gently rubbed the top of her wrist. He exhaled slowly when she didn't stop his actions. She was so skittish he feared that just that amount of contact would cause her to bolt from their shelter under the willow tree and run savagely through the park.
Her head turned and she gazed at him for a few seconds before looking back up towards the sky.
"Jake, you know you can't save me."
"We should go." But she made no initiative to get up and leave. Instead she placed her hand inside of his and smiled.
Back to normal sarcasm in the next post.