Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A shitty day creates decent writing, I hope

To spend a lifetime unloved: locked apart from existence, your nose pressed against that glass, watching. This isn’t just missing out on the warm fuzzies: holding hands over dinner, embracing in a hotel room, laughing together. You’re also missing the screaming matches, the fuck-yous, the silences that stretch like toxic taffy. You’re missing the brawling and the boring, the commitment that lies on the shoulders as a blanket, light one moment, stifling the next, sustaining in all moments. You are frigid. You are forgotten.


Sean Craven said...

My heart goes out to you. And you are absolutely right about the fact that love puts us in a position to be hurt. I hope things are better today than they were yesterday.

Allison Landa said...

Hey, I really appreciate that. They're already looking up. A walk around the lake and some excellent Thai food (Champa Garden, worth the trip to East Oakland) did wonders.