A Broken Crow

it's just so overwhelming. all that love and support in one room. i kept putting my hands over my mouth and my eyes, as though seeing it and responding to it would somehow make it go away. i just couldn't risk it.

you people are all amazing.
and iain is amazing. and you all know that.

my deepest and most heartfelt thanks for all those who helped to make Lymphomapalooza a stunning success.

(you gave me those brief moments that i cherish. that i need. i told myself that it was all going to be okay someday and i believed it. like gospel. like honey-drop words from a prophet's mouth. he was safe and it was real. i was real for those few brief moments in the sweat and the dark and amps shaking the old floor under my feet.)

it's settled then.

my apartment. saturday night.
booze and snacks and tunes and lego.

i fucking love lego.

swing by anytime after seven. i should be home by then.

it seems that my sister is away this weekend, leaving me my lovely apartment all to myself.

i can't help but ponder: what is to be done about this?

i feel like hosting something. not a crazy party or anything...but something.

say saturday?
say drinks of an alcoholic nature?
say scrabble?
say smutty talk?

you tell me. you decide.

let's get crazy (only not too crazy - see above).
(also, i have a spare double bed in which someone or someones could crash.)

the first little bits.
on the pillows. the shoulders of shirts. rushing down the shower drain.

it was real before, but now it will be visibly real.
(those people in that ward. another race, it seemed then)

you will always be you, no matter what.
(plus, i would love you even if this made you look like keith richards. for reals.)

i like this tradition we have going.
the friday night date. dinner and a sonny chiba movie. dinner and pjs and candy on the couch. you and me. moony eyes and freckles and cold lemonade. i close my eyes and everything else melts into silence. the sound of white sheets and your hands on the small of my back. it's all smooth and it's all soft and it's all perfect.

kisses for you you you.
buzz-cut time draws nigh.

this is your job too now. hanging out in the cs and pretending to be busy with something. i am so good at it. olympic calibur. (i'm especially good at sneaking you cookies.)

i am starting to feel guilty, however. such a nice apartment that i pay for to use as a well-decorated storage space. i like staying with you. i feel like it's our place sometimes. (we'll have a my-apartment sleepover, and hang out with my sisters and i'll take you to janes for brunch in the morning.)

it's amazing how normal it all is.
this new hand of cards to play.
there was no deviation from any plan. it's like we were always meant to do this.

there's just so much love.

even when the big words i pretend to understand fill up my head and i can't say anything. so much love.

i'm tired. my eyes feel heavy and hot.
it's all this stuff in my head that keeps me from sleeping.
(plus, the other night i dreamt about zombies. i hid for hours and hours and hours and they just kept coming. clawing at the door.)

but now i have time. two whole days of non-work related activities.
and tonight we're going on a date. a real, honest, non-hospital, dinner-and-a-movie kind of date.

i could cry.

but i'll probably just smile and laugh and be in love.

girls night tomorrow. i'm excited.
i need whiskey and hugs.