2001-05-23 || 2:10 p.m.

|| happy anniversary ||

in the restaurant i can't stop moving. my feet are thumping and i watch the water in my cup shake in time to my knee hitting the bottom of the table. i am manic, leaning over the table as i talk, brandishing my fork, getting food on the chest of my shirt and wiping it carelessly away as i go for my glass of iced coffee. my teeth feel too big. my eyes can't focus. i am talking too fast and cutting you off and changing the subject. when you talk my mind is reeling, driving along at dangerous speeds, and i am trying to catch your words as they steadily pump out of your mouth. your words are important. your words are intelligent and heartfelt and all spelled correctly. they float in front of us, big and bloated and with no intention of disappearing. i need some air. i make them fall by cutting in, asking some stupid question just to get myself back on track. i can tell i did the wrong thing. you don't answer and stop talking entirely. you stare at your plate and shovel in rice which has now taken place of the words. little letters consonants and vowels caught between your teeth being taken back because you don't want to waste the energy on saying them to me. i don't deserve them. i deserve silence. i deserve to get locked up in this feeling-whatever it is that has all my extremities jittery, all motor skills impaired, unable to make any kind of connection across this table. i start playing games: if he looks up he is not mad. you don't look up. you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. if he touches my shoulder on the way to the restroom he isn't mad. you don't touch my shoulder.

i am now alone and the ladies seated next to us are looking at me. i am looking out windows, studying sugar packets, picking at the scars on my hands, pretending i don't notice. they must hear my feet thumping. they must see the way my eyes are darting and the way i am twisting up my napkin in my lap. they must notice your empty seat and plate full of uneaten words and sentences. they must realize i am a terrible girlfriend.

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