“Don’t talk like that,” he said, “Because you’re going to see me again. I’m going to come out to New York and we’re going to be married. You’ll definitely see me again.”
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We sat together in the dark bar with our hands in each other’s hands. His face was aglow with appreciation as he watched the band and sang along with blues covers even I didn’t know the words to. His tie (he had dressed up for me) was undone and draped around his neck. Dear God, the boy was beautiful.
...read more hereLast sunday I went shopping at an Albertson’s in San Diego. I don’t even know what I was shopping for, and it’s entirely likely that I left the supermarket empty handed. I was trying to keep myself centered. I probably just wanted a walk. I was thinking of a person I thought I would never see again. A boy.
This song came on and I nearly lost it.
...read more hereI suppose that was the “mark.” Nobody else hit on me in the hotel after he spoke those words. Ha… that’s a lie… they hit on me all right, but not while he was present. Men seemed to tiptoe around him. They respectfully waited until he had left the room.
...read more hereI’m starting to sit and wonder these days… do tourists get as much attention in New York as I’m getting in San Deigo? The thing is that while I’ve encountered tourists in New York, I’ve never been one. For the most part, I look just like everyone else. In San Diego, though, I seem to have a sign tacked to my forehead… and it’s sure getting me a lot of attention. [...]
...read more hereAnyhow, I’ll be gone tomorrow. Don’t try to contact me. I hope I never see you again. And if you don’t like how I talk back, you can kiss my nappy-haired, East-coast, hairy-legged feminist ass.
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I cannot touch the keys;
I have nothing left.[...]
Oh, a storm is threatening my very life today… If I don’t get some shelter I’m gonna fade away…
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There’s no title. I sent it to him in an email on the day I wrote it with a caption that said simply “To [his name].” I don’t know what I should call it… let’s discuss.
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