It is one way to live...

He said I'm jealous of your life.  I told him I was jealous of his.  We laughed knowing one could have the other easily.  He looked at me long and hard, occasionally commenting on a habit or body part of mine.  I gave him a hard time about whatever I could think of, it was all I could do to keep from getting pulled in too deep.  I think I failed at this, but not miserably.

He said, "what are you thinking?"  Hating that question more than anything (and being honest and vulnerable), I still answered.

"Just between you and me ... I'm hungry and sad that you're leaving."
"Come here.  I'm sad too, but I'll be back."
And then we napped.  Me, soft and snoring, him lightly or not at all.

I never asked him to come, and I never took him seriously.  I didn't ask for any of this.  As he packed up his car I bit my lip anxious for him to leave so I could hide under my blankets.  He paused packing to ask himself just what he thought he was doing with his life?  I wasn't the only anxious one.

Come with me he said.  Maybe he meant it, maybe he said it because he knew I'd say no.  Maybe that was just me thinking no one can really love me.  And then we kissed like we were in a stupid movie.

I'll be back in a month, he said.  Undecided whether or not this would be a good thing.  He was gone almost as quickly as he arrived.  I searched for traces of him, of our time together, half convinced we never existed in the same space.

Forgiving

We're neither pure; nor wise; nor good; we do the best we know.
- Voltaire 

Anxious and Worrying

In the Dust of This Planet

The silence on the other side of the line
     Expressing
A rejection of something is
An acceptance of another
     Nothing
The loudest mic drop

You Forgot It in People

I'm tired of cute pet videos on the internet.  There.  I said it.

Tiffin

And then he wanted to sit on the same side of the booth...

The Dark Side of Love

The two men that have had the greatest impact on me have both put P.J. Harvey on mixes for me.  I'm sure there is something to be gleaned from that fact, but who's to say what that is.

I've Always Struggled with Beginnings

I feel I am on the precipice of ... something.  Every beginning signals an end to something else.  I think that's why I often fight so hard against change, not because I want to maintain the status quo necessarily, but because I am stubborn to let other things go.  Letting go is scary, but I know it's important.  

Listing the Ways

It was his toast, it was her weather.
- The Body Artist, Don Delillo 

Hungarian Rhapsody #2 in c sharp minor

I saw myself sitting alone on the cold basement floor as a young girl, still unaware of the concept of loss.