"One time I was at your house for New Years, that one house up in Indianapolis out in the middle of the soy and cornfields, where the county roads ran on a grid system and every stop sign had a pothole next to it. We’d been dating for almost two years, and you’d known I hated your guts for about a year. You hated me too, but you were too selfish to give up and I was too scared to tell you to give up, so we hated this place and we hated each other. We had so much hate that sometimes it got squeezed out of us and that’s when we would fight or fuck, violently and loudly and sometimes I’d slam things and you’d hit me, and you’d cry and I wasn’t allowed to touch you. That’s all we did. Fight and fuck.

So it was New Years Eve and we were sitting in the kitchen with your little sister. She was 6 at the time. We were playing Uno. This was after you’d found out how I felt about Sarah, and it was after you’d changed your plans for me. So you hated me very much I suppose and all I could say since you’d found out about Sarah was “I’m sorry.” I said it so much, so often, and so LARGELY, that you’d started to hate that too. So we were playing Uno and all year I’d been saying sorry, I’m sorry, you dropped a knife, I’m sorry, your class is hard, I’m sorry, your car is broken, I’m sorry, my family hates you, I’m sorry. Well your sister laid down a card and I told her it was the wrong card, and she said that she was right and it was the right card. Well it was, and I said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop I guess, that’s how it was. And she told me, “You don’t need to say you’re sorry.”

I walked into the bathroom and began to cry. You knocked on the door and said you were going upstairs. I had a nervous breakdown. We fought, and then we fucked, and then we went home a week later."

Model; Mary Scott