last night was all about alone time, sniffly sad on the couch watching sex in the city dvds. perhaps not something to watch when sad? *shrug* sometimes it is good to cry, sometimes...sometimes.

mon petit vulcan
your eruptions and disasters
I keep calm
admiring your lava
I keep calm

and TT was to come home at midnight. i cut out little paper hearts and ran them from the door to our bed, a trail to me...asleep?

not asleep, but anxious, hearing his car pull up the driveway, a key in the lock forty times before he actually arrived.

not asleep and neither romantic nor beautiful. and i cried and i shook ...so sad, so ugly and still in pain after three weeks. i want to be beautiful for him, for me (for us) but it is so difficult now, embarassing. i am relieved he is not going to be here for halloween, for my whole bond/bondgrrl idea is an impossibility at the moment.

i know this is temporary, in a month i'll be dancing again

note to self: remember to teach that TT how to tango and foxtrot...

and in good spirits...i only have to wait. but then again, are we not always waiting for something? hard in this case, because it is out of my hands and time = enemy. there is nothing else i can do.

doktorsurgeon: massage them, rub them...if it hurts, you are doing it too hard.

me: yes doktor, yes.

pleh.

and this morning more tears. it is hard to be sexy in a sportsbra, it really is. fuck. i want to be/feel pretty again.

electric shocks --
i love them
with you...
a dozen a day

at least i was productive this morning, signing up for my last class and filling out my application for a spring graduation.

whee.