She’s never where she is…She’s only inside her head.
Post with 3 notes
In 2012 I met someone I thought I could love… and then they died… I wrote this a few months after our first meeting…
Sitting in a hotel room in a city i know well, but not well enough, waiting for a text from someone i know well, but not well enough. When my phone vibrates, the words on the screen are simple, but the meaning complex. “I’m lonely.” A flurry of texts follow, until there is an address. Panties, bra put back on… clothes… make-up checked, hair. Grab my purse and phone (the battery almost dead, but it should last long enough). Head downstairs and outside. Wait in the flurry of snow and cold until a cab finally pulls up, and i give him the address. I don’t know exactly where i’m going, so i pay attention to the journey, making notes in my head as i periodically text where i am. Closer. Closer. Closer. Until I am there. Standing in the cold, snowflakes dusting my black coat, and i can just see inside the double set of glass doors where warmth awaits. The last text. “I am here”. The phone battery finally dies. And I walk inside.
Still got yours, Rhonda?
Let me check….yes, Barbara, I do.
ha! i love it. also, it reminds me of one of the earliest nan posts. probably best the two of us live on different continents; the mischief two wantons together could manage…
i used to take midol, but only at half dose. explains much…
Crap, I stocked up on all these emergency rations!
a fun thing to do: say “no thanks, i’m a vegetarian” when people hand you their newborn babies
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