dragging myself out of the house, making every effort to remember that i'm alive. a blur of wet and muddy bike rides on unlit roads in the middle of the night, cigarette breaks out by the airport, awkward naps on bumpy plane rides. being confronted with the evidence of my island life, surgically removing the offending brain cells and moving forward. seeing the romance in desolation and wasted time, feeling the allure of endless avoidance. fleeing the empty house as soon as possible, dreading the cold return and already planning which music to use to fill up the silence.
BUT THEN I REMEMBER THE VAULT RED BLITZ IN THE FRIDGE AND THE NEW SWEATSHIRT, AND ALL IS WELL. maybe i'll go to some sort of a store, throw some money away, watch a movie. take the garbage out, pay some bills, pull myself together.
at least i have a husband.
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