December 1, 2001
December Begins
21 Days.
The winds of winter slip through my skin, into my heart, remind my soul that tomorrow is the heaviest of days...
Kelsi and I had fun working on the tarot project, spreading out both of our decks across the whole of our dining room table. We ate popcorn and raspberry daisies. Gymnast Kelly reaked havoc on pajama-clad Kelsi.
When we woke up this morning (at 11:30!), we went downstairs and proceeded to watch spanish children's television. With Tatianna, a rather loudly clad pop singer of nursery rhymes.
Spanish children seem as bizarrely amused as American children. Via dancing alarm clocks, for example.
I found myself at the Christmas walk tonight. Not quite like this. It wasn't the same without him. Nothing is.
I sang a bit with them, though. And I conjured him in his leather jacket, shivering, bitching about the cold, tugging on the strings of the under-the-bridge hat.
Which I wore tonight.
And tomorrow, tomorrow he will call me, and I will cry, and I will re-read his letter, perhaps all of his letters, and I will crumble dead flowers between my fingers in anticipation of fresh ones, and mark another day off of my mental calender, and imagine snow, and his eyes, and long nights in his arms, and Christmas, and New Year's, and peace. Even if only for the briefest of moments.
I can't believe it is possible to love someone this much.
astera at quite cold