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Or the account of my decline into barbarism (and all of the lovely, mad people who helped me do it).

Thursday, February 25, 2010

All You Need Is Love

In this room, I watched a relationship bloom and break. It ended the same way it had begun: with music. We both cried, tried to fix it, but I eventually handed him his Beatles anthology and his copy of Revolver. We hugged one last time, and as he put his lips to my head I heard him gasp, felt him quake.

Goodbye.

Lael spent the night with me. I took a Loritab to fall asleep, but I only dreamt of him. I awoke, forgot about our ended relationship, and wept. I want him back. I don't feel the liberating relief that always comes with a breakup. He was incredible, and it's impossible to keep myself from calling him and begging him to come over. I'm going to give it a few days, see if we can salvage it. He said, "Maybe after you go to Italy, my job will be straightened out, and we'll see what happens." Maybe, Daniel Smith, maybe, but I want you now.

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