mmmarilyn;

a big-city fairy tale.

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{a photo project, 2006}

26 april 2007; thursday.

7:10:08am

still bed, still infected with death

Maybe sleeping about 60 of the past 75 hours does not yield a decent stretch of writing.

I'm going to resist complaining more about the illness, or talking about my medication-inspired woozy dreams.

I've mostly been thinking about that tall boyfriend I have, and how happy he makes me even when I miss him so much it hurts. I don't write too much about the long-distance thing, mostly because it would just invite whining and moaning for the most part-- obviously it sucks. At least right now I can be grateful that I don't have to worry about infecting him with my plague, even though it would be nice to have someone to take care of me.

There are some things that are really good at making me feel lonely with that favorite boy of mine being so far away. I'm not sure I even remember ever folding sheets with him, but whenever I'm downstairs at the laundry and I have to fold big sheets by myself it makes me feel very by myself.

Of course, if he were around, he could do the whole folding thing himself.

I also really miss him right now because the NYC Ballet spring season is opening this week and I really just cannot wait to bring him.

I'm not sure I can tell if this is too sentimental, or not clearly enough full of adoration.

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