"And Does He Cry Through Broken Sentences Like 'I Love You Far Too Much?'"

I thought maybe if I kept washing it maybe someday I would wear it, or maybe give it away. I mean...it only cost me two dollars; it's a lovely shade of dark periwinkle.

I suppose it worked. And when I looked at myself in the mirror and I pulled it over my head in my bathroom I felt grown up. It came down low like the front of my black hair, and my shoulders were back like I was proud of my son for hitting his first home run, and the sun shone down on them with my neck exposed to the wind.

Bright Eyes plays and so does Spencer...just me and my fish and my music in this lonely apartment.

::but it's mine::

I wash dishes in my underwear and I like it. I play my music loud, and I sit on the balcony drinking tea.

I own too many things.

There's art on the walls, but still no one calls. I am my own company, but sometimes working on yourself can make the most beautiful lonely masterpiece no one will ever see.

I will make a great wife someday-if I ever find a man who will make a great husband.