feeling better, feeling worse
"I'm singing my heart out, but you were so out of range…" – sloan
Last night the Boy decided to share a bed with me again. I feel like it's been forever – and for all the nights when he stole covers, or flailed about, or snored without remorse, I've been getting lonelier and lonelier. I can't and won't let myself become complacent, but: every tiny bit of relief is that much more exaggerated by the pain that preceded it. I had real difficulty getting out of bed this morning, but that may also be because I'm getting sick.
Tomorrow I'm staying home, the better to mark and rest and dream.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*