crazy go nuts.
you know how when you're dropping off to sleep, you're in that weird place where you're kinda awake but you start to dream? i do that all the time. and often--i did it last night, again--the dream i start to have when im drifting off is that im in bed with you, back at brudenell road, and you're talking to me as i fall asleep...
is it crap of me to say i look forward to it all day?
i love you so much.
the first one
so i thought you might like this. basically, this is going to be a blog for you, i suppose. you're the only person who knows about this. i liked the idea of having a blog i could update at any time to tell you how much i miss you, and whenever you felt like it you could read this and know that i'm thinking of you. plus, whenever i write anything about you in my lj, its only available to a certain group of people because i don't like the idea of andy reading it... i miss you like crazy, baby, and i can't wait until you get here. at some point i need to know the details of your flight so i know exactly when to be there. plus, i need to know what you'd like me to wear... i plan on turning up while sucking on something distinctly phallic. probably a lollipop or something similar. you know, just to get you thinking...
but for the first entry, i wanted to put something in here that i wrote for you in my LJ. i hope you like it.
Almost 6 PM, and I am sitting, Indian-style, on Andy's bed, reading a book and absent-mindedly munching on leftover Chinese. There are no clouds in the sky, and in three weeks I will be home in Pittsburgh. There is a tickling near my right elbow, and I brush at it to find it's actually a spider--one of the ones with a tiny body but two inch long, spindly legs that look like strands of hair. I make a sound, yeep
, and slam the book down on the spider. After a minute I lift the book up and the spider looks like it's in pretty bad shape. I examine it for a second, full of morbid curiosity, when it slowly stands up, circles around for a second, and wanders off in another direction. I hate spiders and I lift the book back up again, but then I think of Dave, who would capture the spider and let it go outside, so I let it run away. He's in France, with his sister, brother-in-law, and his new baby niece. There were "incidents" in London today and I think of last night, when he told me in his heavy, drowsy voice that the first instinct he had when he heard about the bombings on 7/7 was to call me; just me, little old me. I wonder what the weather is like at Kris and Steve's place. He called me today to tell me how big Etoile is getting. I wonder if he is holding her right now. I wonder if he's thinking of me. I wonder if he's happy. I hope he is. And I am thinking of him, thinking, he would probably be proud of me if he knew I had saved a spider.And finally, since you were complaining:
Naturally, the last one is my favourite.
I love you.
