Dannielle Says:

Kristin and Trey
a photo essay by Dannielle Owens-Reid 

Again. Another hung over saturday. Trey has changed.

I could feel the distance between Trey and myself sweating and crusting since he began his sleepovers with Kristin Russo. I thought what we had could bare anything. I was wrong. 

The days turned to nights and afternoons were lost in the middle. Trey was different now. His eyes no longer could scour the depths of my soul the way they used to. He was gone. Some semblance of a shell was still remaining, and yet…he was gone. 

The Trey I knew came home before dusk. The Trey I knew spent Friday nights in his smoking chair, catching up on whatever Chaucer novel he’d left behind the night before. The Trey I knew is not the Trey that Kristin Russo brought from the dead. This Trey was different. He was no longer Trey. He was a glass house of emotions, spinning and jumping into a lake of forced freedom. He was gone.

Kristin Says:

You guys. I’m just hungover and now Dannielle made me read some crazy ass romance story where she used to be Trey’s lover AND used the words sweating and crusting in one sentence.

I hate today.

#hangovers