L. is gone somehow, we have broken up. At first I am relieved, I think I just wasn't mature enough to handle the relationship yet. Then this sinking feeling arrives: yes, but what about when I am ready?
I eat a pot brownie and wander the city, into and out of stores and clubs. I decide to get a tattoo. A friend is with me. First they do the outline--it is on my shoulder or my ankle, I'm not sure. I wonder if it will hurt, and will I feel it more acutely because I'm stoned? I see the proposed colors of the image and start to regret the decision. Maybe it will be okay, though.
