no call. no message. no plea for my presence this evening. i imagine she's got a hot date. i don't know if i'd have gone. but just to hear it... i guess i shall go canoing after all. fuck. i don't need 35 miles of river. i need the innocence back. i need to be the king of the castle.
. . .
maybe i will stay home this weekend. i think i could hang out in the kitchen, tear stained, and bake pies. tend to the walls and floors and ceilings of my life. bathe away the emotional bruises. i feel so much like a neglected housewife. i really can't believe any of this.
that which was once possible is now lead in my throat.