the lost future

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.

I’m tricking my students into writing a research paper by having them write an open letter and then strengthen their argument by adding evidence. They were allowed to write about anything they wanted for the first draft of their open letter, and one of my 10th grade boys decided he wanted to write about girls who only like bands because the members are cute and don’t really care about the music.

I let him do it because I’ve found that shutting down a student’s idea at the first draft stage tends to make them more obstinate about the topic. I figured we’d get to the evidence-gathering stage, he wouldn’t be able to find scholarly sources and he would change his topic.

Well lo and behold, today he comes into class and tells me he’s changing his topic. Apparently, he couldn’t find any evidence and he figured he was being kind of hypocritical because he gets really excited about athletes he doesn’t even know and the only reason that’s different than fangirls is because it’s him. He actually told me that he realized that writing that first letter would be pretty condescending. He’s going to write about LGBT rights instead.

This next generation, y’all. There’s some good stuff happening.

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.