Golden hour

I wish I was someone else,

Someone good.

I found a note on my phone that read: But there’s nothing there!

There’s nothing here for me or anyone else. I can’t believe I’ve attached so much to stale tobacco on an armchair or not texting back. I don’t want to see something beautiful mowed down in front of me.

Seven days after that I wrote something about bite marks on my shoulder.

You can read whatever you want into it, I’m having trouble these days processing facts for what they are. I’m back into old habits of reading around and under and into things that aren’t mine to dig into.

I think about sunshine boys and my ongoing love for people I haven’t known for a decade. How it still takes precedent when maybe, I hate to say it, I hate to say it but it shouldn’t.

God but I miss those sunny evenings. Miss them even more when I reflect on how there was often water for the evenings to bounce off of, back into our faces making everyone look more beautiful and gentler. Streams of it or metal or later on a key in a cave that offered a small glimpse of it, but it wasn’t the same.

I would never ever have called it quits if I didn’t think it was salvageable. I still wish you all the best. It would bring me no joy whatsoever to find out anyone I’ve ever loved is in a worse state than they were in when I found them. The fact I would even deign to shoulder that responsibility makes me feel nuts in retrospect.

I’ve been so headstrong in some aspects and so elastic in others. I’m glad nobody thinks it over enough to compare themselves with each other, because I’m not a main character.

Tell me I’m pretty, tell me you care.

I dare to listen to folk music I listened to in the shower a year ago. I think about how much love I give away at work – how tears spring to my eyes every time I ask someone to have a good day. I want that for you, I think. It’s only going to get more difficult, but at the same time it’s got so much easier for me and thank god I can have that in the grounds. Thank god I can hold my reusable coffee cup in my paws and turn to the sun like a stupid flower.