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Nonfiction

Year Untitled

Evelyn Patneaude
10 July 2025
817 Words
5 Min Read
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10 July 2025

1. Drive drunk to see you; steer extra careful when I spot a cop car.

2. The whole way there, listen to songs that you like.

3. Eat food when I don’t want to, just so that I can do something with you.

4. Cry because one day I’ll likely miss you badly.

5. Bite my nails.

6. Sit on the edge of the bed every morning and waste my time.

7. Used to walk to the park and write it all out because I was too scared to tell anybody anything.

8. Repeat every couple of months, “this is the worst my skin has ever looked.”

9. Make plans then dread them.

10. In bed, heart rhythm gets abnormal and keeps me awake a little while longer.

11. Reconsider a lot of my central beliefs.

12. Think anything’s cool if you think it’s cool.

13. Starve for hours.

14. At work and at home, act aloof or cold.

15. Cry because I want you to.

16. Spend most of my days at the same few places.

17. “Soon, you will learn to isolate the muscle.”

18. Develop a condition in my hands.

19. Get addicted to routine and pattern.

20. Don’t really listen to some of my favorite artists anymore.

21. Downstairs trying to prolong eating.

22. Went to that party in April and ended up sobbing like an infant and begging for you hysterically.

23. Drift through the Sunday shift like a spirit.

24. Plane’s goin’ up: I have decided that everything should remain exactly as it is with no changes, and that my biggest goal in life is to sneak into my parents’ bed in the middle of the night like before.

25. Swirl the Pineapple Green Tea with Lychee Jelly around the inside of my mouth real good so I can taste it before I spit it out in the alleyway.

26. Start to hate dogs.

27. Don’t text ‘cause I’m too proud.

28. People disagree with the way I went about it all.

29. Acid in throat. Watch a million movies with you—think of how I used to drape my legs overtop yours and try and subtly weave them in between, excited but not letting myself get carried away given our circumstances.

30. Crave coke any time I drink now.

31. Miss the way my hair looked, so much.

32. Constantly going to the doctor and trying to get referrals to some kind of specialist.

33. Wake up reinvigorated on Saturday.

34. Study some bullshit at community college.

35. Try to watch porn on “PornHub” for the first time in years: scroll until eventually all the girls’ bodies in the thumbnails just start to look grotesque or pitiful or ugly, and then plug my phone in and roll back over to sleep.

36. Hope for hot water in tomorrow’s shower.

37. Listen to that video you recommended.

38. Be home in time for dinner.

39. Drive 4 hours east to get a motorcycle that won’t start.

40. “Nobody will read this stuff, but that’s legitimately fine.”

41. Get progressively dumber.

42. Changing clothes takes extra long now because the momentary feeling of not wearing a shirt or socks or pants is far too cold to bear.

43. Obsessively scan the menus on different restaurant websites.

44. Wake up due to lingering pain from bursitis of the hips, a poorly cocked wrist, and an eyebrow piercing that will never heal.

45. Get bored of everything I write.

46. Stare out the window as I silently work up the confidence to say it.

47. Make the same two breakfasts for a year straight.

48. End intercourse prematurely and mope about having done so for hours after.

49. Can’t decipher any sensations in stomach or chest regions.

50. Walk around the whole town with you even though I’m frigid and the boots I wear daily are shocking my heels more and more with each step.

51. Remember that easier does not mean better.

52. Unsend the message I sent via Telegram while inebriated.

53. Dad buys me sushi from Sprout’s grocery store.

54. Think of my friends.

55. Have worse hygiene than before.

56. Send 5 emails on Thursday morning.

57. Starve for a year.

58. Take off my clothes and crawl into bed with you. Don’t sleep, but still dream anyway. “Thanks for letting me come here tonight.” I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep but that doesn’t matter to me.

____
Evelyn Patneaude lives and writes in Seattle, WA.


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Year Untitled by Evelyn Patneaude | Soft Union