We were sitting in the car, we were talking about how much he's changed since he was young when he needed to feel validated, needed, desired, how now it's about an empty apartment, and what that feels like when you've grown accustomed to domesticity, to monogamy. I like how he can't wait for her to come home. To share her adventures. He might only be able to say I accrued all these parking tickets, but that's the way relationships work, someone goes through a lot, someone doesn't, it's life's parable, it's life's way of trying to accumulate balance. The whole while I'm thinking it's a man in his mid-twenties growing, itching for even more. The whole while I just want my plush bed with all the pillows. Too tired to really want to hear more about growth & men. I fall asleep and want to stay there, though that's where I find myself going fully through a dream car accident straight into the first of August. I go to therapy & he makes me laugh & then I cry because _________. I run hard, lift weights, I walk everywhere & pop in and talk to him & her. I buy myself things because I deserve it: pants you can just zip off. I just want to walk up to my plush bed & zip off my pants & fall in. I make a few more errands, the wine purchased, a secret to ensue (details to come), and it's all because I'm celebrating the life of me. Mother buys me flowers, the flowers are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.