I've been feeling okay lately.
I mean, not physically. Physically I feel like crap. But that's my normal at the moment. But I don't feel MORE like crap.
But mentally...I've been feeling okay.
I went to Iceland. It was bleak and white and black. I walked around for three days, and then one more when the wind grounded my plane. It felt almost like home. Like I'd stepped through a slit in space and time, and here was another place I'd called home. The church on the hill like a grey spear thrusting against the sky, the inside stark white domed roof. It was so strange to see such familiar holy shapes, completely and intentionally unadorned.
I went to London, and told barely anyone I was coming. I saw six west end shows in six days, and ate as much clotted cream as I could without making myself sick.
It felt good to move around quietly and silently.
I went home for Christmas. Home. My parents are selling the house, and it breaks my heart to see it go. But it is time.
My mother made me walk around the house and point out everything I wanted to inherit. I had to keep begging for breaks so I didn't start crying. But it was necessary.
(My parents are okay. My mom just likes to plan ahead.)
My job ended. I got laid off. I haven't worked in two months, and I haven't bothered to apply for unemployment insurance.
I went and picked up my tools today, and the offices are so empty. Barely a skeleton crew there, just to keep things rolling until the last days of shooting.
I don't know him, but I know him. He has dark hair, and a narrow face, and thick black eyebrows like smudges of coal. He wants me, his hands are all over me, and I can't get enough. I can feel him, I can taste him--
I wake up and my skin is on fire. When was the last time I held another human being? Touched another human skin-to-skin? There is a hungry electricity in me that I can't turn down.
I start talking to an old flame again. A different one. We have never slept together, this one and I. But there was still fire between us.
Maybe there is yet.