Archive for thoughts

perfection

Posted in cusak, real life with tags , , on Mon, 26 Jan, 2009 :: 25/05 :: 23:02:13 +0000 by anaïs' little sister

His pillow, faintly permeated with the smell of his cologne. I pressed my nose to it, clinging to the last vestiges of the weekend we might have spent together, if his work hadn’t taken him away. A manly job, an earthy job, the wielding of knives. The faint salt sea clinging to him beneath the overwhelming aura of fish.

And I, curled up in this bed we shared, a bed that felt more his than mine, as our entire life did, wondered what would have been different. If I had loved someone else, someone more refined, less rugged. Someone whose drink of choice was the martini and not a beer.

But here, right here, in this nameless place, as I writhed with a hand between my legs, inhaling the scent of his cologne, I knew it couldn’t be traded.

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bruises

Posted in real life with tags on Wed, 10 Dec, 2008 :: 344/50 :: 22:59:58 +0000 by anaïs' little sister

I haven’t had much to write recently. I will attempt to end the radio silence this weekend.

For now, I shall simply keep poking my bruises.

wistful

Posted in cusak with tags on Wed, 15 Oct, 2008 :: 288/42 :: 18:14:44 +0000 by anaïs' little sister

Radio silence commences soon, not that I update this thing as often as I thought I might. But the move is nigh imminent (tomorrow morning I will hold shiny new keys in my hand) and that means I finally have to get off my ass and pack. It’s nice, knowing that I only have two suitcases (and a box or two now) worth of stuff…but at the same time, it’s a little chilly.

At least it’s almost done. Then we’ll drive it all to the new apartment, unload all the boxes, stash the dodgiest stuff that we don’t want his parents to see in the attic, and enjoy a few days together off work. I’m trying not to have a sinking feeling, but I’m just ready to be finished with it.

I keep thinking about how I left the west (oh, there goes some anonymity). I threw everything I could fit in a couple of suitcases, threw them on a train, told my best friend in the world I didn’t want to cry in front of her, and somehow made it all the way to the desert before the tears started. Then it hit me in a rush what I’d done. This place that had been my identity my whole life was suddenly miles behind me, and I was wading into the deep unknown of the mountains.

The travel, living with Mr. Wayne, these things were moments. Tiny stops on the way. But now that Cusak and I are moving in together, like for real and with intent, I find myself missing my town out west. I miss the Pacific, and I miss brunch at the diner that only took cash. I’m scared that this is the rest of my life… Not bad, just…indifferently in limbo, waiting for the future to happen to me.

Maybe it’s just the loneliness talking.