teany

....kiss my forehead
and tell me you love tea
and let me lie all over you....

that was in a letter I wrote about hump day/wednesday/a day we never, ever had again.

how was philly?
did you think about me? did you imagine me next to you? my guess is that you didnt.

I find myself talking to myself much in the same way I coached myself into phasing 'achey-breaky' out of my life: in that coaxing, and reassuring way. I often say, "youve made it this far....you can go another hour/day/few days/....it hasnt been so bad...itll get easier...distract yourself/there is plenty to do instead/ etcetera.....and so forth"

we speak now more than we used to. it is this strange reversal that I am sure you (or i) will curtail soon enough.

i should be learning science. "distract yourself," says the voice in my head....

curious how my craving for yaffa has mysteriously increased over the past few days...

(none)

you are either ignoring me, or you are dead. While I hope you're not ignoring me, I really hope you are not dead....

one has to wonder what is in that head of yours most days....

they have photoshop installed on the computers on campus. I got the brilliant idea of thieving it for you. Ive stolen lots of statistical software and office suites over these past few semesters for various projects. I hate working on that campus, its really annoying (and far away) so ive often found myself bringing campus home.... So, i bought a flashdrive, and was steadied on giving it to Leo on my way home- a little "from: me, to: you" gift of thought. but, the drive i bought wasnt compatible with mac os greater than 9. i returned it. ...good story, no? (a page-turner)

this situation is becoming more and more confusing, and increasingly more annoying. sorta. see? I cant even figure out how i feel about it anymore. i do know, for certain, that when you dont return my texts and neglect to respond to my emails, it slightly enrages me. i dont expect u to be available for me at all times but i definitely dont expect that youll completely neglect any communication, as you have since i left yesterday. (All of it). is this phase three: no contact save for wednesday? or whenever we can "figure it out." now that you are screwing someone new....out of sight, out of mind?

ooooooooOOOOOooooo.

im beginning to wish more often than not these days that i had never met you and i could just never call u again.

not drinking

sucks.

hot chocolate

Ive told you too much and now I feel rejected- this is the cause of my recent disposition, I think. I told you too much and it was not received warmly and so Ive turned away- almost entirely and completely and I doubt Ill be back. This is what happens when I feel rejected; I almost never come back.

So, I do want this to be plan A now (maybe. maybe not). And last night, I wanted only that- which is what I meant by not "going out of my way" anymore. I dont plan on calling, or showing up unannounced. I dont even really wanna have to make the travel 11 blocks up and 2 avenues over, anymore, unless I am there for some other reason anyway.

and then I thought....

maybe telling u so much, and showing you such vulnerability was my way of pushing you away. I thought, "how clever, its perfect." I managed to show you my "vulnerabilities" so soon and in such abundance; anyone would be taken aback, but i fault you for it and push you away as a result and all the while I can feel perfectly justified. I get clever-er with every new relationship I set out to fuck up.

(good luck with that, huh?)

4.20

I really wanted to go. want to go. was going to go. I ran today as if I had been running for weeks. I ran so fast and clean; it was artful. I ran determined, upright, quick. I ran in the street, in a tank top made from the blue, cloudless skies of summer. I ran under the edges of awnings, hoping to catch whatever drops were left over from the outpour minutes earlier.

Remember what I told you about the rain? I didnt even realize it until just now, that I ran today because I feel like I cant stand, cant hold myself up. so, i ran hoping i could make myself weak, hoping Id have a reason to feel so frail.

(that is a lie)

i ran because i feel strong.

(thats not entirely true)

I ran because I could. I ran because on the way home the air felt sticky and warm. I really ran because I found a song about breaking apart and I wanted to run so I could think. I wanted to run so I could think, and feel strong while listening to pieces of my soul whining. I wanted to pass people on the street, dodge them, and maneuver around the cars. I wanted a distraction while claiming firm focus on this song about frailty.

i dont know why the fuck I ran today. Maybe its because I told myself i would begin running everyday. I dont, however, know why i ran so hard and so fast, and so easily, and so fucking far. maybe its because I told myself I would and I am sick of not doing the things I tell myself I will.

(my ankles crack too. they are cracking now)

My guess is that you are tired of this too.

larabar

I bought three today, just as the sun was setting. I also bought a fillet of salmon and balls of mozzarella stuffed into plastic; cucumbers, watercolors for the boy, and romaine for the pocketbook.
I went to lecture and tried to convince myself to remember how lucky I am, really. (really!).

Then I wrote three paragraphs en espanol, drank 2 litres of aqua and ran for 45 minutes listening to a song about breaking apart.

I ran past 8th and A because I knew someone on 7th and used to know someone on 8th. I ran to Essex where the scientist lives and through the park that belongs to the campus where I used to wish I was allowed to stay past midnight.

I sprinted longer than I think I ever have, from broadway to bowery, and i walked twice past the lighted chicken on the corner, stopping to stretch in front of the dive-y-est bar I have ever (almost) drank in.

I shared an elevator with the kind of woman I wish I was sometimes. I stretched again, up on the fifth, and tried to figure out how to breathe the right way, paying attention to the length of my ribcage, like i think he said to.

dishes, floors, beds, dust cloths and swiffer.

sparkling water and a wine glass to set-- along with hand-painted dishes from argentina and sterling flatware from france tucked inside of napkins, the fancy kind, laced at the edges. The salmon has mangos alongside and the vegetables are julienned, the dressing home-made.

I am too tired, or too hyper, these days, to eat anymore. I can only run hard and run fast in the middle hours of the night.

etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

breakable

Have you ever thought about
What protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones
And some other various parts

So it's fairly simple
To cut right through the mess
And to stop the muscle
That makes us confess

And we are so fragile
And our cracking bones make noise
And we are just breakable breakable, breakable...
Girls and boys

And you fasten my seatbelt
Because it is the law
In your two-ton death trap
I finally saw
A piece of love in your face
That bathed me in regret
Then you drove me to places
I'll never forget

And we are so fragile
And our cracking bones make noise
And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable...
Girls and boys

And we are so fragile
And our cracking bones make noise
And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable girls...
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls...
Breakable, breakable, breakable...
Girls and boys.

whew

(enough said, no?)