| xvii. a friend after i left a voice mail, a friend called me back from the other side of the country. helping me hear myself, he asks, "all questions aside, what do you feel in the pit of your stomach?" i smirk over my phone as if earlier he was with me parachuting pass her apartment building on my way to school. all day, i tried repressing that question from my mind; let it float somewhere else. an answer wasn't relevant to me nor anyone. apparently, it was relevant to feel "a bundle of balloons. tied together. one deflating. the rest trying to carry me, naueously." "lemme guess, because you know you shouldn't cut strings with a woman as wonderful as her?" no,...because there is only one her. |