the american home

at this point i’m definitely more of a podcasts blog than a musicals blog but right now podcasts are definitely providing me with a steadier stream of lesbians. put some of the wlw back on Broadway and we’ll talk

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By Cait_11

The Rampion landed on the earth, causing the ground to give a slight shake. Thorne stood up from the pilot’s chair, then helped Cress up from her seat.

“We’re here!” he said excitedly. “The American Republic. My home.”

Cress looked out the window, observing the warehouse they had landed in. 

“Nice.”

Thorne laughed. “Maybe we should look at the outside of this building. I trust you it will look much nicer than this.”

“Alright.”

Cress and Thorne walked down the ramp, their feet meeting the cold concrete floors of the landing warehouse. They made their way outside into the bright sunshine.

“Wow,” Cress breathed, looking at the trees swaying in the breeze, the green grass, the flowers with their bright and eye-catching shades. “It’s beautiful.” She grinned up at Thorne.

Thorne smiled back at her. “It is lovely. I missed this place.”

“Then let’s look around!” Cress said gleefully. She grabbed Thorne’s hand and dragged him behind her.

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Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.