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

2002-04-01 @ 5:23 p.m.
Peach herb tea from a mason jar.

Mom and I went out to Surrey this morning to pick up the circa-1965 olive green loveseat and matching arm chair destined for my suite in May. I get the arborite kitchen table in a couple weeks. Apparently arborite is a Canadianism for formica. Who knew?

Surrey is entertaining. North Shore people always joke about Surrey, but the scary thing is that it's all true. As soon as we turn off the highway and enter the Surrey suburbs, the trashiness is highly apparent. The first fence we passed was tagged with graffitti, and we passed several houses with cars parked on their front lawns. On the North Shore, people are very snobby about the quality of their front lawns. In parallel, tasteful xmas lights are a serious competition around our block on the 'Shore. Anyhow, we then passed a family of a Dad (plaid flannel shirt), Mom (acid-washed tapered jeans), and Son (mullet hair) all waiting at the bus stop... I understand there is not much money in that area, but why must they wear acid-wash and mullets? ...and I'm sure they all have driveways and garages.. oh wait the grow-ops are in their garages ehehehe.

So yesterday was Easter. I went home early in the afternoon to beat the traffic and went over to (ex)Chris's house to make cookies. Oh Mom was quite pleased to hear that one "I'm going over to make cookies with Chris." I brought her some double chocolate chip goodness as evidence. I still don't know what I was thinking... there are spatulas involved in baking. Things got a little rowdy. At one point I was straddling him on the floor removing his belt to whip his ass as he was trying to give me a wedgie with those handy loops on the back of my overalls. While the cookies baked, he got a phone call, so I flipped channels to CMT. He started making fun of my overalls and CMT. The irony is that he's got one of those keychains that's a really wide shoelace-around-the-neck type thingy that hiphop people wear, a matching red Yankees cap, and Easy E cranked in the house. Who should be making fun of who?

He pulled me close later on. He breathed on my neck like I remember he does. "You smell.. so... much like Shannon..." He kissed my neck. My mind raced. What am I doing here? Who was he with on Friday night? Damnit, what the hell am I doing here? How many girls has he kissed since me? Does he hug everone like this.. so passionately.. so tightly?? Oh god, our lips are so close. Oh god, he's kissing me on the lips. I just breathed as he kissed me. He pulled back, and I kept my eyes closed trying to comprehend the situation. He kissed me again, and I gave in. The deeper it became, the more my insides were exploding. Thoughts spinning, heart racing, desire. He wiped one of my tears off my face, asking me what was wrong. "Nothing and everything, Chris, nothing and everything." He didn't say anymore because he understands. We fit together. But it's not the right thing for now. Nothing more progressed in the passion department. Kissing him is stepping over the friendship line, but anything further is jumping off the friendship cliff. I went home. Granny pushed her asparagus and potatoes on me as usual, and Grandpa drank way too much champagne.

Roots | Shoots