What I Live With

June 19, 2003
10:16 am

i still can't bring myself to throw away the toothbrush. the yellow one with the name of my dentist printed on it in gold letters. the one he used just the once, and i always kept hoping he might need it again someday. and there it sits.

and here is an excerpt from Unsent #4 which i am considering sending:

"what you wrote hit me pretty hard. i read 'in perpetual dusk' and about watching things vanish over a hill and i completely identify and yet i can't help but think that these are choices you make. choices you made. and i know that you probably weren't talking about me, i know it. but it does fit for me...you, and the way i was when i was around you...that for me was beautiful and truthful and pure. and i understood it, really really grasped it, i did. and wanted it. and miss it, because the best shine of it is gone now, and things are different. i have to think so carefully about what i say and it's really so exhausting to do that, you know. and what i feel is this distance, this holding back. there are things we can't or don't talk about and that seems awkward and sad to me. i feel this absence of resolution, that nothing was ever really discussed or dealt with, but just skipped over."