I have not set up internet in the apartment yet. I'm trying to prevent myself from procrastinating from unpacking by having no internet to distract me.
Positives: totally unpacking
Negatives: no blogging, can't check traffic, can't check movies (shouldn't be checking movies anyhow, should be unpacking)
Moving went incredibly smooth. GV8 showed up to my parents' place at 845AM with a trailer and his oversized truck. I already had everything packed, so it was just a matter of letting the garage spew its contents onto the driveway, seeing what there was to take, and packing. Everything fit perfectly into one open trailer, my mother's SUV, GV8's truck, and a few things in my car. We drove the 30 or so miles to my new place and unloaded, done by 1215PM.
Which left GV8 and myself running errands (mostly hardware, buying a fridge, hitting Target for various things), while my mother and two friends unpacked my kitchen.
It's scary. I know this is a normal thing for everyone, and most people end up living alone (right?) at some point, but I never have. I always have that male safety net living beside me.
GV8 and I grabbed some Thai food, walked around a shopping area, did some more work on the place. Electrical and plumbing.
Things are shifting between us again, the dynamic. I'm not sure what it is, where it is going. It's not romantic, it feels like we're sliding apart. Figures.
But I have to run. Work to do. More... eventually.
About Me
- Poetry of Flesh
- Los Angeles, CA, United States
- Love Sonnet XI
Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Without being critical, don't you still have that male presence in a lot of ways?
ReplyDeleteI do. But GV8 and I talk once a week, and I'm sure that will lessen once the apartment is done. I'm not really speaking much with my father now, either.
ReplyDeleteBut really, the male presence for me... there's no one to consider when I come home. No outside opinions, no influence on where to put things, how to decorate, what music is on, what movie will be watched. I don't have to invite or check to see if it's okay if I go out, if there are conflicting plans or desires.
It's weird. I'm still adjusting.