I’m going to see The Great Gatsby this afternoon! (And then tomorrow I might get to spend a few days with Timothy —I think this week is starting out just wonderfully). xx

Ma-ma-ma-ma-mad-mad: I am craving too many things at once (and a particular man much too much) and I cannot do anything to make it bearable; it does not help that the Titanic is playing (and of course the lovemaking scene in the old-fashioned car is the first part I see); I think I am just going to lay in bed, in the dark with a tiny light, and read until Tarzan ends up with Jane.

Ache, ache, ache: today was full of sadness and vodka and cranberry and happiness and closeness and guilt, all at once; I wish I could love like I did before, without disappointment or blame or accidentally making someone cry (but I never loved less); I have to get up in four hours to make my wonderful mother a french toast breakfast in bed; tomorrow will be better. xx

Not velvet, but fleece: I’ve been busy unpacking and being reabsorbed into my house; my room is more spacious and I sleep next to a window now; I think I am beginning to sink into a love withdrawal (I miss him so very much); I’m cuddling in bed eating vanilla ice cream and trying to watch Howl’s Moving Castle (but the poor disc has been mistreated by my brothers..); so now I’m just sleepy and drowsy and wish you all a good night. xx

Zee zee zee: The anxiety for this upcoming week has given me a mini-stress fever and a nauseous appetite (oh joy); but this weekend I’ll be spending the night on an isolated island (without any sort of electricity —but there will be a ferry and Timothy and they tell me wild mustangs); for some unexplainable reason, my sweater smelled like church at confessions; I also saw a clip of an Indian man singing during class today, and Hindi is such a pretty language (how did I not notice this before?); it was 11:11 a moment ago, so I hope you made a wish. xx

"O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again."

— Thomas Wolfe, in Look Homeward, Angel.