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boxing kitten

open and shut.

The scene here at the moment is this:
I'm typing on my mother's computer on the first floor. My parents, Aunt and Uncle and Grampa are behind me in the living room, shooting the breeze. To my horror, they're talking about who's having babies. I've just taken a leek tart out of the oven.

A couple of days ago, I moved back into my parents. I had a vague plan to save up money and move to Boston. Vague because he made no guarantees. He's smart like that.

On the same day I moved, Sean and I broke up. For the final, last, absolute time.

I am broken and lost to an extent I didn't know was possible. I know this won't last forever.

What I'm struck by is that so many doors have suddenly closed, and so many are suddenly open.


There's no way to say everything that needs saying in a response in your journal. Oh, wait: I love you. There we go.

Send me a line with your address (for New Year's goodies) and phone number (if you need to talk).

oh Sara - I heart you. Thank you.
and the overwhelming part is in trying to figure out which door might be best?

*sending comforting feelings*
Or even identifying what doors look like.

I miss you Kai - and stupidly I don't have your number on my new phone - will you give me a call sometime (even if I've been a complete shit of a friend?)
Who needs this "Sean" character anyway? I don't know him, but I'm sure you don't need him. I miss you. I'm in Vermont.
I miss you too Ari!

I'm thinking about going to Steff's tonight to bust open a coconut (which is not actually a metaphor for anything but really should be) and hang out. Where are you at? (734-1560)
boxing kitten

July 2007

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