I am standing at The Foster Freeze on Telegraph waiting. I had just been into Santino's for a stupid expensive glass of cheap Chiante. It is a dive pizza spot but down the street from my house and secluded. I even have a secret spot for my car so that I won't be spotted. I just needed time to sit on a stool that has been contoured by many an ass and be alone. It is my secret, mine and mine alone.  

Now waiting for my order I am viewed by many. I adjust my skirt to make sure my knees aren't showing. Insecurity is always unwanted but forever returns. I hate my knees. The circus mix is bizarre but they all have one thing in common, Ice cream on a cold and gloomy Socal day. Only in these places is gloom a part of everyday life and not allowed to alter your behavior. It starts to rain. The girl at the window say's smells like rain, I say it smells like dirt. I get my fries, get into the car, and only make it a few minutes down the road before I have to pull over. The water comes but it's not the rain, it's the storm within my heart that finally forces itself free. I am going back to a home where I do not feel welcome, with a man who shows me no kindness or compassion. Who does not care to know me or give me any inclusion. Valentines day is coming up and it will yet again be a slap in the face. I am miserable. I sob like a broken child who's sole devastation is based on the idea that it isn't fair. The one who doesn't get the ice cream. I didn't even bother to order ice cream.