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That haunting song "bury me in Vegas" kept wafting through her noggin. maybe she'd put it on. It had been so long since she'd listened to music.
Her body felt like a weak thing that had just survived over death and was worn out like a wrung-rag used for blotting the face with cool water during a vigil all through the night.
Fuck it. she was purpling her prose.
She had woken up today, and the first thing she thought about wasn't him... for about five minutes. In fact, her second thought was joy at having not thought about him.
Her first thought had been the dream of the dancing Indian woman in yellow pants and shirt - and how fucking grateful she was that her mom and aunt weren't here so she wouldn't have to whip out her hostess with the mostess routine.
The walking man was walking man.
The Florida pendant hung, but today there wasn't any sun.
It would seem rare that one would have a "light night of the soul" as dark knight is the usual suspect, but good fucking god she had seen some light last night.
She was wrestling with the robot, "but why the fuck did he leave me if I recognized him as my tribe... this makes no sense... what the fuck do you mean my fire didn't have a container...I'm so broken I'm just not going to try anymore - I can't turn off my joy at finding... it does make sense that when I love it's like oxygen let into a room that's been sealed for some time... I'll agree."
and finally, she got back to the writing. it was a hope.
she still loved him and would always love him, but she had lost him because she was performing a supernova when he wanted someone fun to have a drink with and see what happens. What happened is I ate too much like a starving person that doesn't realize you have to have gruel first.
speaking of which, there's my first person again.
I'll have to forgive me.
again and again.
I love you Kristen.
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