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we're on our way home.
i wrote him a message. explaining all the things inside me that are on fire. for him and otherwise. and he wrote back to me, "i'm smiling." my feelings: i wrote you a gigantic sort-of love letter and all i got was this lousy t-shirt?! but its not a lousy t-shirt, its a starting block.
if i can make that motherfucker smile by telling him his eyes are the colour of shit and i still think they're beautiful anyway.. i should be able to do anything.
i've been packing everything. i have so many books that i have three towering piles of them waiting for storage bins to be brought tomorrow. i cleared everything out from under my bed. then i ventured under to grab bits of garbage. but it felt so good to be under there. i clenched my garbage-picking fists and laid there listening to "two of us" on repeat and smiling at the wall. if hes smiling i might as well try it out for a while.
8:07 pm - March 28, 2010
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