"my belief is like a bolt"

indian food in amherst, stopping by newbury comics and caving and purchasing the latest belle and sebastian, as well as Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. he's asleep at my side, and makes small contented noises when i pet his hair, and it's as though i'm splitting into two people, the really cool one i am when he's here and the prone-to-tears one when he's not.

wrong me not, i cry on him as well, but it's different.

five episodes of Firefly, replanning out vacation to just hang out in Boston, since it's my opinion we're both too stressed for DC, and it's my knowledge that I am. i still feel like i'm cheating him of something, but there are years and years, and DC's not going anywhere.

mailed junkyard a book, and someone else something else. was remarkably well behaved in a conversation with a stranger. dreamed about chesterfield gorge last night. remembered to take light driving past the gate with face i'm obsessed with up by smith.

getting attitude from my boss for leaving work early, because she knows how close i live to the hospital, but still sobbing with fear as i drive that mile home. maybe next winter, i won't be such a basket case. my hairdresser scolded me, and i bought expensive shampoo and cannot become accustomed to the new weight of my own hair.

friday night, and light can't be here and i can't be there, but junkyard teaches me the last few steps of a poetry web, and it's like someone removed the last impediment to the river, it's almost become hard to think in my own words, i have so many of other people's floating around, called to the surface by association.

there is good, there is bad. i'm trying to find my way back out into the world, not 100% convinced i want to go there, but thinking i probably ought.

"my belief is like a bolt"

indian food in amherst, stopping by newbury comics and caving and purchasing the latest belle and sebastian, as well as Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. he's asleep at my side, and makes small contented noises when i pet his hair, and it's as though i'm splitting into two people, the really cool one i am when he's here and the prone-to-tears one when he's not.

wrong me not, i cry on him as well, but it's different.

five episodes of Firefly, replanning out vacation to just hang out in Boston, since it's my opinion we're both too stressed for DC, and it's my knowledge that I am. i still feel like i'm cheating him of something, but there are years and years, and DC's not going anywhere.

mailed junkyard a book, and someone else something else. was remarkably well behaved in a conversation with a stranger. dreamed about chesterfield gorge last night. remembered to take light driving past the gate with face i'm obsessed with up by smith.

getting attitude from my boss for leaving work early, because she knows how close i live to the hospital, but still sobbing with fear as i drive that mile home. maybe next winter, i won't be such a basket case. my hairdresser scolded me, and i bought expensive shampoo and cannot become accustomed to the new weight of my own hair.

friday night, and light can't be here and i can't be there, but junkyard teaches me the last few steps of a poetry web, and it's like someone removed the last impediment to the river, it's almost become hard to think in my own words, i have so many of other people's floating around, called to the surface by association.

there is good, there is bad. i'm trying to find my way back out into the world, not 100% convinced i want to go there, but thinking i probably ought.

(no subject)

light leaves and in less than a quarter hour, i've sobbed myself to vomitting, collapsed on the bathroom floor, all but screaming "i don't want to hurt anymore" and "please" and "make it stop" and now i can't stop shaking and i'm so very, very tired of this, and i know that i can do this for as long as i have to, that there is next to nothing i wouldn't do just for weekends with him, much less a life, but i can't getting my breathing to slow down, and i'm not sure if it's right to wait another six months, but i don't know how to judge that either.

and i juggle numbers in my head, how many months would my current savings pay for two apartments, student loans, car insurance and cobra-ing for health insurance?

where's your vaunted practicality now, lady?

but today was yankee candle, and clove votives and a giant lollipop and many episodes of firefly, and i can still feel his lips under my fingers, and my cat is suckling the fuzzy husband, and i can do this, i can sleep alone and go to an unfriendly work, and i can weep until the corners of my eyes crack and bleed, but i want the part that comes after this so very much.

i can't think through this, i can't regulate my breathing long enough to read, i can't convince myself to put on clothes and clean, and it's terribly tempting to crawl back in the shower and sit on floor and sob under the hotwater, but that way madness lies.

(no subject)

light leaves and in less than a quarter hour, i've sobbed myself to vomitting, collapsed on the bathroom floor, all but screaming "i don't want to hurt anymore" and "please" and "make it stop" and now i can't stop shaking and i'm so very, very tired of this, and i know that i can do this for as long as i have to, that there is next to nothing i wouldn't do just for weekends with him, much less a life, but i can't getting my breathing to slow down, and i'm not sure if it's right to wait another six months, but i don't know how to judge that either.

and i juggle numbers in my head, how many months would my current savings pay for two apartments, student loans, car insurance and cobra-ing for health insurance?

where's your vaunted practicality now, lady?

but today was yankee candle, and clove votives and a giant lollipop and many episodes of firefly, and i can still feel his lips under my fingers, and my cat is suckling the fuzzy husband, and i can do this, i can sleep alone and go to an unfriendly work, and i can weep until the corners of my eyes crack and bleed, but i want the part that comes after this so very much.

i can't think through this, i can't regulate my breathing long enough to read, i can't convince myself to put on clothes and clean, and it's terribly tempting to crawl back in the shower and sit on floor and sob under the hotwater, but that way madness lies.