words are spilling from my mouth but writing them down makes them feel uncomfortable concrete. i never existed in his life, a friend he had a fling with so he could be with her.
god its like i have written this story before, foreshadowing my own epilogue. i dont want to look at his things anymore, i just want to move on in all areas of my life.
the garden is going to need a lot of work, george is going to have some trouble initially adjusting to the new space, i will need to learn how to live in less, much much less.
i wish i could have had the strength to prevent this but him moving on so quickly just makes it all the harder to get over it. it doesn't feel legitimate anymore i feel like a filler for someone's year in france. im simply the fallow field, the damn canola crop that no one even wants but just earns some profit.
FUCK. all my words are so shadowed, maybe because im moving too quickly.

reasons i love henry cakebread

henry, i love you.
i dont know very well how to translate that into a gift for you. i had to elminate all gifts involving buying something readymade because i am unable to allow myself to spend any money because of this whole financial aid shblockle. so i thought of some things i could do for you that didn't involve more than a small amount of these things called "dollars".f

PAST and unfinished.

mothers day

its raining on mother's day, it feels so appropriate as we spend the day laying about and not feeling motivated enough to water the garden. the plants will enjoy this cool spell though, the lettuce and border plants are probably very thankful to get some moisture.
i wish i could rebuild all the walls that have recently been structurally uneasy. i have decided that he foundations of my life need to be set anew.
goals:
-move for the summer
-elephant tattoo(they never forget)
-decorate my new cozy space
-GROW
this breakup has made me feel so strange. i am no longer weepy, simply curious but without answers.
the world is a silly place though that begs to not be taken so seriously. i will carouse about and grow a nice big garden and the summer will still be the same as its always been, hot and full of questions. the new instruments are lovely, i have began to learn a new simple song to sing.
my words have become so contrived and steeped with metaphor i almost feel like they are written in code.
the summer is beginning and i can already feel its heat.