2004-01-20 at 9:04 p.m.
In the moment before the drill hits the nerve, i think of what it is to struggle for trust again, to grapple with that place from which the thing was taken. In the moment of the exposure; I imagine how I'll ever explain this to you, how I'll ever be able to articulate what it is to have this loss and this love, what it is to hold anger and desire, to try to find what the balance is.
I don't know how to measure the ache or the longing.
We spend an evening trying to negotiate this new place, this new version of being together.
It's once we get off the phone that the loneliness creeps in like a draft and suddenly the room is cold.
No excuses this time, I deliver my feelings in two sentences and don't wait for your reply. I have bent my words around my perception of your response.
All I can think about is leaving- I would get on the first train i could, rushing up the stairs....Empty thoughts.
That's what's interesting about the gathering- you can trace a trait from its flowering to its root, an archeology of emotion. From her desire to please to his sly smile, trace them to me and to their core.
Even the absences are telling.
Do I expect you to understand these entries? No ! Do I care No, No !
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