“Yomo” April 2021, 20th edition.

A fateful encounter and goodbye.

I’ve met everyone who talks.

I know it sounds flimsy, but I’ve been influenced by the people I’ve met.

I don’t think I’d be talking to you if I didn’t think I was destined to meet you in the first place.

You have your likes and dislikes.

I hate goodbyes.

If it’s a self-inflicted breakup, I’m usually hopeful, so I’m not that sad.

I don’t like the idea of being recognized as broken up, so I go see him anyway.

So I think I’ve only broken up with one handful of people.

If I feel like I’m losing my mind and I can’t see him, I feel like I’m losing my mind.

By the way, I’m writing this on the train.

I thought I just saw one of the few girls I’ve broken up with.

Well, there’s no way that’s true, so it was someone similar to her.

When we stopped at the last station, I caught a glimpse of her back.
What’s that fishy smell?

I really liked that girl.

I really hated her, even after I thought I was losing my mind.

Even after she stopped talking, I had to force her to hold my hand.
I don’t know, it really stinks.

It’s like when you gutted a fish you caught.

It’s like the vomit and diarrhea you get when you go to a fish tavern and drink too much.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like that around here.

You know, on the train these days.
I think it would be scary for old people to see this scene.

The smell

Unbearable.

No, we’ll get off at the next station.

Yeah, yeah, about the breakup.
There’s nothing you can do about your feelings drifting apart.
But a physical breakup depends on your own efforts, right?

I’ve thrown away one hand.