9 days! That’s how long I think I’ve been wrapped up in my head. You know what happened 11 days ago? I had an early morning, and a late night that told me my love was leaving me for 5 weeks in only 7 days. That is Monday-Monday to get everything together and squeeze as much of him into my heart as possible (it’s not possible, he’s already a permanent fixture, like insulation).

We spent a wonderful Friday night and Saturday together (snorting rice and walking in the sun) and he was supposed to call me Tuesday night to tell me he got there okay, and it’s Wednesday night, and I’ve just returned from the soccer game we were supposed to go to together (Toronto FC vs. Dallas FC) and he still hasn’t called.

I’m planning a little panic festival in my head already. My sister has the flu. Bu I went to buy frozen yoghurt the other day after work, just because I wanted to. And the gallery I work for talked to me about putting together an interconnected photography/art/story show. And my summer course is almost done and my friends have started resurging from their depths.

So I am throwing little pebbles across the water, hoping they float.

Sorry this has no storyline, even though usually I prefer it that way. I am trying to cobble this from a few self-esteem issues and a half-dozen mediocre gestures of the utmost importance and a lot of empty space beside me at night. It’s hard to work with things like that. But I’m figuring it out.



Gripe here!

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