janvier 06, 2004
all right. i admit it.
his room is neat and dark; cozy. tonight it's brightened by a small bunch of pink tulips, procured so that i might have something nice to look at. we're drinking wine and smoking cigarettes, he is absent-mindedly rubbing my feet, taking care not to tickle them too much. i try hard to stifle the feeling that i must be about to wake up from this and returned to the cold winter.
it's so strange how this sort of thing hits so fast, how something i fought so hard at the outset has boomeranged back to become something i've willfully thrown myself into.
i didn't want or plan to be someone's girl again for quite some time. but i suppose that you never plan for these things, do you?
i mean, not if you expect them to work out.
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