for my part--i stayed late at the vaudeville show the night he came home. was gone all the next day, in town with friends and meetings. seeking solitude in my room at night. gardening all morning saturday. didn't stop in when i got back, smokey and tired from being a rock-star in richmond. didn't come to cuddle this morning, instead staying in my comfortable groove of carrot juice, last minute email, hardening off cabbage.
i feel hurt and also scared to open up my life again, fearful of again allowing my gentle and subtle rhythm of days be subsumed into his more powerful waves...so i'll just stay here and cry to my computer.
Proust's Parlor Game
14 years ago
2 comments:
your blog spins me a bit. we talked quite recently and your life seems good, interesting projects, satisfying relationship, right livelihood. And then i see you crying into your computer and i wonder "did i ask the wrong questions on our walk?"
no, no, sometimes writing the blog helps me do what i need to do. we did have a good talk about it all after, and things are moving in a good direction.
p.s. this is the post that i cut the first half out of, b/c it was just too incriminating...
and sometimes it just feels good to cry
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