one of the unfortunate parts (i was going to say sucky, neither really express what i mean) of ending a serious relationship is that the good stories pretty much disappear. no interesting story ever started with the words, "my ex and i.." maybe that is a bit extreme but at the very least it is an instant cue to anyone in earshot to actively pursue peripheral sounds or activities.

sounds of food cooking? go investigate.

cat sitting on the floor two rooms away? suddenly the beastmaster makes sense. (not really.)

i took part in some good stories too. the thunderstorm / pizza box crushing bus day, eating gelato while walking home in negative-cold weather, the best first date, lubins..did you just say lubins?, crazy moving days, walking through deafening snow in east pa, aluminum letters, i'm stopping. for my sake.

i will either eventually forget these like anything else (which is depressing to think of them like that, like anything else), or i will forget them on purpose (if that is possible). the other people involved will do the same. and then it is almost as if they never happened. that is probably a good and a bad reason to keep an actual daily journal.

it was na�ve of me to think at the time that any particular relationship would last to the point of always having those stories embodied in a partner. but..



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number 9.. .   .? andy andy andy, get your adverbs here

words are vitamins, and life is short..