mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- be a man So I'm sitting in the laundry/computer room at Mom's house, and the desk is way too low for the chair. And I can't look the the left and see the apartments in front of mine through the window, the window that I used to watch The Beloved Danny from when he pulled up in his parking spot, the window that Dr Frank used to stare out of from the ledge. Shit. Shit shit. I don't know where any of my things are- I mean, I know they're out there in the garage, but all of the bags and boxes are piled up on each other and it's too hot out there to go through them all. I can't find my clothes or my notebooks or the Roswell vcds I've been watching. Shit. God. Shit. I want to go home.I guess this IS home now. Jeromy helped me cart a load of boxes over here last night. We just finished unloading the car when we heard a loud thunderclap, and by the time we'd smoked a cigarette with my Mom and puttered around in my room a bit, it was raining buckets. We drove home to pack up the rest of my stuff, but the power was out. I lit some candles and rinsed off and we did That Thing We Sometimes Do, and we stepped outside in our underwear to watch the lightning. I could hear some people talking downstairs, looking at the bright purple flashes over the buildings and over the mountains. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against Jeromy, rain splashing my bare feet and thighs. He went inside to go to sleep after a few minutes, but I stayed out on the balcony to watch the flourescent spiderwebs streak across the clouds, naked, sweating, and crying. This morning, before I locked my front door for the last time, I sat on the floor in my bedroom and thought about the last year and a half. It was just an apartment, I know, but I sat up and drank coffee all night with Crystal in that place. I listened to music with Harold on my busted cd player when he came down from California. Matt and I spent hours drinking there, singing songs together. I made love in that apartment, and I fought and cried and wrote and I grew up so much, living all alone. And- God, this is cheesy- now I'm on a new page, starting a new part of life. That's that. Yep. That's that. 4:52 p.m. - 2003-09-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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