19.01.07 - 10:37 a.m.
i woke up this morning acutely aware of being alone. i laid in bed and listened to reject all american and watched the wind shake the branches of my lilac bushes, unsettling the finches. i made tea, sang along with michael row your boat ashore on my accordion and remembered the year i spent in exactly this fashion, holed up in a carpetted apartment i hated. m. would show up unannounced and take me for a drive, commenting at some point on how i was always dressed as though prepared for an outing, albeit a shoeless one. sometimes we'd go all the way to chehalis and back, my memory lapsing somewhere around the 16 mile sign and resuming in front of my door with m. saying you're just like a baby. as i slid out of his bronco, closed the door, unlocked my own and waved i cursed my parents for rendering me unable to say i am always dressed in case you come over.
i have gotten better at saying this in six years, but not much better.