won't get fooled again

this time last year, Kyle and I were driving across town, laughing at Billy Corgan's pronunciation of 'heart' (think 'harrrt' with a twang) in 'Rotten Apples'. we read a lot. we avoided each other. he stopped loving me long before summer went away. and I stopped caring about myself, letting myself hide razor blades in Farenheit 451 and skipping work to bleed from my wrist in an ancient bathroom. I went batshit crazy.  and all I can think of is 'please don't let it happen again, please let this get better, stop freaking out so bad'. because instead of having a shitty apartment mate, I have a husband. I have an unborn child. I have to do better than this.

my grey monster of a kitten has dragged a katydid inside to disembowel. I had a seven foot tall manager (whom Travis almost called a butt pirate the other day) who is scared shitless of these green,  leafy bugs. 

Travis and I make each other laugh a lot. I torture him with demands. he went to Publix twice yesterday and Walgreens once just so I could have tomato sauce for spaghetti. and I forget that this gentle guy, who had two cats curled up in his lap last night while watching Comedy Central, is alpha, definitely a scary Tarzan. I forget that until we're in a crowd. and we don't have problems with being jostled, because he is that menacing. when he gets angry, he is frightening. he has one of the strongest, most pervasive auras I've seen. 

And he was an artist. he had skills at shading and color variation with watercolor that just makes me smile when I look at his art. what I wouldn't give to see him make those again.

 

I remember the first time we hung out, for ten minutes outside a Dunkin'. we shared a bagel and he told he broke up with his longtime girlfriend. I always liked him, the cute delivery boy (I didn't know his age until the night he asked me to hang out) with a crooked nose and such a solemn face when he was working. I never saw him a lot, especially after I stopped receiving vendors. two weeks after that fateful meeting (thank you, Teddy, for giving me free food) we were inseparable. and in this chaos of feeling shitty and dealing with a cramped apartment and the stress of getting a house, I forget that. I forget the beauty of a man I plan on making a life with. I have to tell myself that I can still be a badass, I can still be inspired, I can still be myself, and yet have an extension. I wish he was here so I could say these deep things stuck in my head after a day of walking to and from the store, of reading old All and Sundry blog posts, but I know I'll just be suave and grumpy like usual. because that's what twenty year old 'psycho preggo wifeys' do.