October 09, 2000: the screen doors of discretion
The other night, I woke at 4 AM to the sound of Lilith's rusty-hinge voice, muffled by distance, muttering in the otherwise silent house.
oh, no, I thought. She's gotten locked in a closet...didn't I do a tail count before I went to bed?
So I get up to look for the cat.
She's sitting outside the bedroom door, with a furry mouse toy, staring at it and "talking" to it.
I close the door and go back to bed.
It's suddenly fall here.
The skies have, predictably, closed in on us with grey rain everywhere, washing the city down. I walked to work without benefir of umbrella or hat this morning, in my long black raincoat. I turned my face up to the sky as I walked and tasted the rain as it dripped off my nose into my mouth.
When I arrived at work, my hair was soaked, my face was wet, and I was chilled to the bone...and I felt very, very alive.
I love this time of year. There's a brief month before the wet starts to wear on the nerves when the clouds comes as a blessed relief, when the early darkness is just an excuse to get home early and drink hot cider.
I'll look back on this come January and remember how happy I was for the arrival of fall.
Spent much of the weekend with Chris. It'd been a long time since we'd had that much unbroken time together, and I really enjoyed myself.
We spent some time pushing gently on one of my boundaries this weekend, until the scar tissue came loose and the wall fell.
And beyond the wall were things I'd kept from myself for years. Some bad things. I now remember in detail a couple of incidents that happened a few years ago. Some good things, some depths of feelings about things that I'd forgotten I'd posessed.
On the balance, a Good Thing.
No idea what happens next...but then none of us do, do we?
