(In the notebook.)
This is the hard part, not because it's hard to talk about now, now that we're no longer we, at least not we in the same place and time. It's easy to talk about now because it's like remembering.
And remembering is all that I do.
It's all that I have.
It's been a long season, and my face feels like it wants to crack open, so that my other face can come out. But I'm afraid of what that looks like, I'm afraid I'll have gotten older.
If I look in a mirror and see myself and see myself older, then this is a tragedy, because if I get older then that means I've also gotten over it, and I never intended to get over this.
No one should have to get over something like this.
This is the hard part, because it's hard to talk about while it's happening, it's hard for me to talk about it while it's happening, it's hard for me to talk about it as if it were still happening.
You want me to tell you about how it was in the meadow with him. You want me to talk about how easy it was, being in love with him for the first time, being in love for the first time, you want me to talk about that like I thought about it when it was happening.
Except that's hard.
Because it's not what you want, it's not what you expect.
Scene: In the grass.
O: I don't want to be anywhere else.
E: I'm not asking you to be anywhere else.
O: I'm just telling you how I feel, don't be like that.
E: Where else could you be but here?
O: I understand that, I understand the implications of being somewhere, I'm just talking.
E: You're just trying to paint pretty things in the air.
O: With my tongue.
E: With your tongue. You make pretty things in the air.
What most people forget, that moment, that time, when you're in love, it's never as sweet in the moment as it is when you remember it. Anyone who's in love is filled with doubt and is always second-guessing themselves, because love makes us all stupid, and we're all pretty well aware, even at the time, that we're doing stupid things and forgetting to do all kinds of things that we know we should be doing, and nothing really works very well. You think about that person all the time, and you think of things you'll say to make that person want you in the same way that you want them, but no one really ever knows anybody anyway, and no one wants in the same way, and if we knew that at the outset then we would leave it for someone else, so they could be disappointed in our place.
E: What are you thinking?
O: Oh, I'm just thinking about how we haven't had anything to eat all day.
E: Oh. We should eat?
O: Maybe.
E: I'll go get something.
O: Ok.
E: Unless you want to go.
O: No, that's ok, I trust you.
E: I'll go.
O: Don't get bit by a snake. I would hate it if you got bit by a snake.
E: Right, I'll die from a snakebite out here in the middle of paradise.
O: Do you think this is paradise?
E: Yes. Unless it's just a very close approximation.
Dear Diary: Today I got bit by a snake and died. Some fucking paradise.
This is the hard part, not because it's hard to talk about now, now that we're no longer we, at least not we in the same place and time. It's easy to talk about now because it's like remembering.
And remembering is all that I do.
It's all that I have.
It's been a long season, and my face feels like it wants to crack open, so that my other face can come out. But I'm afraid of what that looks like, I'm afraid I'll have gotten older.
If I look in a mirror and see myself and see myself older, then this is a tragedy, because if I get older then that means I've also gotten over it, and I never intended to get over this.
No one should have to get over something like this.
This is the hard part, because it's hard to talk about while it's happening, it's hard for me to talk about it while it's happening, it's hard for me to talk about it as if it were still happening.
You want me to tell you about how it was in the meadow with him. You want me to talk about how easy it was, being in love with him for the first time, being in love for the first time, you want me to talk about that like I thought about it when it was happening.
Except that's hard.
Because it's not what you want, it's not what you expect.
Scene: In the grass.
O: I don't want to be anywhere else.
E: I'm not asking you to be anywhere else.
O: I'm just telling you how I feel, don't be like that.
E: Where else could you be but here?
O: I understand that, I understand the implications of being somewhere, I'm just talking.
E: You're just trying to paint pretty things in the air.
O: With my tongue.
E: With your tongue. You make pretty things in the air.
What most people forget, that moment, that time, when you're in love, it's never as sweet in the moment as it is when you remember it. Anyone who's in love is filled with doubt and is always second-guessing themselves, because love makes us all stupid, and we're all pretty well aware, even at the time, that we're doing stupid things and forgetting to do all kinds of things that we know we should be doing, and nothing really works very well. You think about that person all the time, and you think of things you'll say to make that person want you in the same way that you want them, but no one really ever knows anybody anyway, and no one wants in the same way, and if we knew that at the outset then we would leave it for someone else, so they could be disappointed in our place.
E: What are you thinking?
O: Oh, I'm just thinking about how we haven't had anything to eat all day.
E: Oh. We should eat?
O: Maybe.
E: I'll go get something.
O: Ok.
E: Unless you want to go.
O: No, that's ok, I trust you.
E: I'll go.
O: Don't get bit by a snake. I would hate it if you got bit by a snake.
E: Right, I'll die from a snakebite out here in the middle of paradise.
O: Do you think this is paradise?
E: Yes. Unless it's just a very close approximation.
Dear Diary: Today I got bit by a snake and died. Some fucking paradise.
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