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ALMOST

July 31, 2017

A fiction piece; written in the infamous fibonacci sequence style xx


enjoy :~))



                                                                        Almost
(1)  Almost.
(1)  Almost.
(2)  Tightly wrapped.
(3)  ‘Almost’ scares me.
(4)  I almost missed out.
(8) Why might you ask? I was purely scared.

(13) I slept with all of them to feel numb. But I never committed.

(21) He asked me to marry him after knowing me for only three months. We fucked almost everyday, in between the others.

(34) I said yes. I wanted come home to someone, sleep with someone and fuck someone. We never got married. Just stayed engaged. It felt better and more comfortable that way. More real, at least for me.

(55) I almost said yes. I don’t think he cared very much. He became very secluded and we never talked about whether or not I was cheating. I think he was cheating too. Months passed and we would make small talk, still engaged, and we were still happy. I was still cheating. I almost stopped. Almost.

(89) We talked about having a baby. I was only 26 at the time. I’ve had a lot of pregnancy scares before. But this scared me more because this was a committed pregnancy. Two months after we talked, I became pregnant, and two months after that I lost the baby. I didn’t care so much. Not as much as he did. He wanted something to tie us together. I didn’t care either way. Five months later, I got pregnant again, and this one stuck. Twins. A boy and a girl.

(144) I was almost able to love them, all of them. But I was 30 and knew nothing about having a family or being a mother. I was still screwing guys on the side and low key, enjoyed it. I loved getting away from it all and being the person I always was. We almost got married four months after the babies were born. My kids grew up and spent most of their time with their dad. I never felt close or connected which made it hurt less. We almost had another baby. Our kids were now four now and I didn’t want to have babies around anymore. We never talked much, I think the kids’ voices were a supplement for my own. He called me cynical for not wanting to spend time with the kids and a bitch for saying I didn’t want them.

(89) He stopped talking to me and kept the kids away from me. He moved out and took the kids with him. He sent photos of them smiling and playing to torment me and I was sick of it. He would call me screaming and telling me how much of an awful person I was and how he hated me. He said he couldn’t believe of the woman I had become and I should kill myself. I almost killed myself 3 times in my life. 14, 19, and 24.

(55) I started drinking when I was 14. I listened to and knew every Kurt Cobain song he had ever sung. I was immensely depressed and I think the depression carried itself with me and still does. I think that’s where I got sympathy. I almost died three times in my life, but I was already dead.

(34) Anyways, he wouldn’t stop calling me and torturing me. He would get off to it. He would say they were all happy without me. I was happy without them. Then he came over.

(21) He brought the kids. He demanded money from me. They all wanted to leave town. I didn’t let them. I cut them.

(13) “I cut them. The three of them, with an axe. So? Who cares?”
(8) “I cut ‘em all up, in big pieces.”
      (4) Tag read: Officer Mitchell.
      (3) “So, what happened?”
      (2) “Um. Almost”
      (1) “Miss?”
      (1) “Almost.”
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