SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019


2002-02-15 @ 8:31 p.m.
I need to be needed



He bought me flowers, but they were supermarket variety. White daisies with red carnations wrapped in ugly generic flower-paper. The eucalyptus smells amazing, though.

He didn't bring them to the door. We walked out to car to go to a movie, and they were waiting for me on the seat. Gee, thanks.

We walked up Granville Street, and I had to search for his hand in his pocket. It was warm in there. He complained that his hand was cold, being outside of his pocket and wrapped around mine.

Conclusion: Peter is boring.

I've spent many hours with him now, and there is still no emotion. He is flat. He is curious, yes. But he lacks the drive to discover what he sees. He is non-physical. I want to wade in the waves while he is content to watch them from a blanket.

Jogging the night streets alone. Golden pools of light reflect mirrors of rainwater on the black pavement. Airplanes fly overhead. To be on that plane.. to take off and fly away from here. Adventure around the world.. leave my blue quilt with my Mom and fly...


Roots | Shoots