after a breakfast of the succulent medjool dates left on my nightstand, i rode the bus (with soymilk) home. it was cool until dartmouth where a generous handful of loudmouthed yeahyeahyeahs (really nopenopenopes) got on, sat behind us and forced us to reach for the tunes. at one point, tho, i yanked out my earpiece because a girl behind me was telling an adoption story and i was hooked. it got happier and happier and i got sadder and sadder. she read the card her birth mother sent her "i was saying how this year was gonna be a good one and now it is because i'm gonna meet you, i can't wait, i was gonna look for you this year but you've found me and it's gonna be so awesome bla bla bla..."
"and oh isn't that sweet oh you must be so excited bla bla bla," blas the friend...
and my heart breaks.
and the girl continues on,"yeah my mom's a journalist and she lives in vancouver and even tho she's gonna come down here to meet me i'm also gonna go there to her place because she just has so much to show me she couldn't possibly drag it all along with her."
" yeah, she must have so many photos of her family that you must look so much like... omigod!" blas the friend. "yeah her and her partner are gonna have dinner with my parents and i and like i just don't know where to sit, i don't want to sit between the two families cause i don't like want it to be like a battle even tho i don't think it would be. i think i'll sit between the two moms..."
i'm trying not to listen. i'm plugging my ears. soymilk's tuned into tunes and when i let him know what's going on, he quickly offers me his headphone too. i crank the tunes. i can still hear them, possibly because i'm straining to do so, despite my geminian best efforts to not listen. i'm crying. he's consoling me. i request beastie boys. i rock out as much as possible. thankfully the girls get off the bus in truro: where my who_e mother pushed me out of her vag once and forever.
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