so the architect's been away for a couple of weeks, now - two exactly, actually, and i've been ok on my own (i always have been) but i've missed him lots and i'm glad he's coming back. this evening i went for drinks with a friend who i haven't seen for a while - actually the last time i saw him 'in person' was the weekend i met the architect. he reminded me of how i was rushing off from our lunch date to a rendezvous with punkrockboy and i had to smile about my crashbangcrazy life of last spring. man we had some good times, didn't we?
i'm turning 35 in less than two weeks. i'm starting to feel a little old. my life is so different now than it was a year ago, and i wouldn't change it for the world. i love the architect and i'm so excited about our future but there are moments when i'm filled with anxiety about tossing it all in and running away to another country to be with someone - the only person i'll know in the whole city, state, country practically, that i want to run back crashbang and throw it all away because the uncertainty you know is better than the one you don't. or is it.
ah i don't know, and i'm just randomly typing as my brain comes up with these words. i didn't even know i was thinking them, really, but drinks with my friend reminded me how tenuous our grasps on our own realities can be - his wife just left him with their two kids so she can rediscover her 21 year old self - and what would happen if mine just slipped out of my hands?
this post makes no sense just random words put together on a page with a silverscreen nudie shot to distract you from my disjointed thought processes and absolute lack of grace in my style.
sometimes i miss all the people who stopped by to look at my tits.
most of the time i don't even notice that they are there.
We’re not going anywhere.
Il y a 1 jour
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