Monday, November 17, 2003

 

it can suck without being a sucking chest wound.

today i was thinking, why do i get sort of itchy and uptight--and feverishly unsatisfied--every, like, fourth day? should i be writing more? am i unhappy with the monkey? should i take a vacation? do i have a cold?

i think i know. the first year in a new place is like walking around with a superficial wound. you're not thinking about it all the time, but you're always bleeding a little. i lived in the last place for about four years, and i'd forgotten what starting over is like.

even though i like it here, even though i was right to come, my life is not as good as it was back there, and it's a relief to say it out loud. it is not as good. it's even harder to admit, given that being together should just be categorically better than being apart. it is better to be together, but where i used to have a pretty rich, multifaceted life, i now have: him. perhaps this explains my unreasonable envy when he finds success these days.

i don't want him to go away. he saves this place. but i am quietly looking forward to the day that life here is the full package. i think it'll be better for both of us. in the meantime, it's no one's fault.

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