Anna (smolderingheart) wrote,
Anna
smolderingheart

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the space is limited in more than one place

My eyes glimpse the message letting me know he’s written me, and feel an momentary flinch shifting in my heart but it passes. He hasn’t written me anything spectacular but after everything this summer I can’t help but smirk when I realize it doesn’t hurt quite as much as it did when he began to ignore me after his love looked like it would burst in my bedroom. I should change that, it doesn’t hurt like it used to. Love must find a way of reinventing itself, emerging as something new but I know that he is not the man, or person for me. It could be because there have been reminders that there are other people out there in the wilderness and that the hope of finding someone who may compliment my life revives me. It doesn’t change that I love him deeply, and may revisit that love for him again one day but for now I think I’ll lock it up in a box and throw away the key. I may keep running for awhile since it suits me for now. I can face the remains of this relationship but it does not mean that I am quite yet ready to face myself without it. Maybe that makes me an coward or weak, unaware who knows.

I am anxiously anticipating my Las Vegas trip, the elevation – the sunsets out there always make me feel like a child on the closest footsteps to another universe. It will be exciting to see Jenni after all this time away from her. It is unfair in a way that most of the women I am close to are all scattered throughout the country. I suppose we’re all sort of gypsies, unable to stick to one place or even together for too long but I think that’s why we all end up appreciating one another. At least that is one interpretation. It does sort of suck when I am really missing one of my girl friends for example when I spotted photos of my friend Jessa on an photographers computer a few weeks ago I started to cry. Oddly enough the last time we saw one another I had just had a spurt of tears after expressing that her new boyfriend reminded me of my dead lover. Oh the stories we all end up having in our lives. I am happy though that I’m making the trip, buying the ticket felt like a catharsis. In Vegas I get to see three of my favorite women then I rush off to Houston to spend Thanksgiving with Simon and muse ourselves into a frenzy. The only downer is that I have to pay for my baggage, and for a model that is a sad sad thing especially since I literally stand on a scale holding my bag every time I go on a trip just to make sure it doesn’t go over the weight limit. Not to mention I’m keeping wardrobe in my bathroom now. It’s New York, space is limited.
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