Numbers written up and down my arm in black permanent pen. Not so permanent. I had to rewrite it because it was fading.
One number is his. The other number is where I can reach the girl from Florida. In theory, at least. I dialed earlier and was answered with the machine.
Weakness. A moment of weakness.
I guess that's really the best way to sum up my life at this point.
I'm going to go shower again.