She runs away before winter solstice, is gone through Christmas Eve and Christmas, comes home right before New Year’s, looking ruddier, more vibrant. Home being relative, and in this case referring to the place she keeps the most stuff. The most jackets and the most boots and the most dresses and the most diaries. Also […]
her favorite part—one of her favorite parts—is landing on his bedroom floor in a crouch, the window on the night still open behind her. developing this character might be her greatest achievement yet. she’s reached this weird stage in life where breaking into a man’s home is her new form of courtship. it’s difficult to say exactly how […]
Django lives with me for 18 years and five months, in a myriad of settings, alongside a dubious host of characters, and then, one day, before getting in a truck and driving away, he sits me down in front of his piano. “I have a song for you,” he tells me. “It’s called The Farewell.” […]
Just as visiting Paris as an adult sprung her fifteen-year-old self, meeting him as a full-blown woman springs someone even younger. “You foolish little girl,” he chides her, on occasion, which fosters this rejuvenescence even further, and sends her back to a time when, like now, he played the role of her shepherd. ~ “This […]
It’s because she is young, epically speaking. Or at least not dead, anyway. Also because the phenomenal display of life feels really a performance, her performance. And she figures her performance may as well delight. Also because none of it seems to carry with it the quality of being quite real. She can’t track when or how […]
I don’t plan to cry when he leaves—that’s not the girl I am at all—but it sneaks up on me when I put my head down in the crook of his neck. His shirt is so soft and it strikes me hard and fast that no one is going to be here to tuck me […]
So we move to a large and isolated house, with marble floors that are cold on my bare feet, and life starts over again. If there is one aspect of my story of which I am certain, it is this: It can always start over. I don’t know how to talk about the life I’m […]
Tonight I go to this sweet little dive bar to see Noah read from his new book. I’m having trouble assembling the right outfit, but in the end go with a fitted grey trench coat and fedora with an attention-grabbing fuchsia stripe. It’s raining, for one thing, but more importantly, I’m a wee bit undercover. […]
It’s been forever since I’ve written anything, and now I have this desire to sum up particular aspects of the last couple years of my life and get on with it. Though perhaps not without proving I learned some things first. I certainly can’t allow myself years that meant nothing. In that vein, my first […]
Things hurt now, in a new way, the likes of which I’ve never experienced. I go out night-walking with headphones, careful to avoid the train tracks, and sometimes I try to decipher what this pain is. I want to understand it, and to be able to explain it. The closest I can come is that […]
my delusions 