i. Just as August gave way to September, the latter gently bid goodbye to make way for October. Likewise the boy – more real than mere words on paper or two-dimensional photos – has gone from August to September to now, October boy. Since the last time I wrote about him, a few meet-ups have … More October weather (“It’s cos you met me at 26”);
i. My lab tech aka newly acquainted colleague and offshore roommate says that by my age, she’s married with a baby on the way. I tell her that at any age, not all women (men too, really) dream of picket fences :) ii. Today two Operations folks said that I’m ‘well-bred’ when they found out … More (what an identity crisis feels and sounds like)
When I realized that September boy, who was previously August boy, carries the scent of potential of being October, November… boy. Maybe December, too. How much I want this to be true, yet… (yet) I am trying, but against fear and endless questions – it has been very difficult to write.
“Still at the wedding haha had one drink too many.” “Are you tipsy now…” “Haha a bit.” “You’re not texting me drunk right…” Because I am always sober thus (self)responsible to remember why and how we would not work – why this emotional investment will only leave me in the negative; why for all of … More what (are) we are;
“Sometimes the writing should be put on hold: a boy who smells like springtime.” — Sarah Kay, Today’s Poem (…or while I figure out the intricacies of my softening heart in this ocean of confusion)
Once, I’d apologized for being a hurricane; it was a particularly stressful day at site. “This is why no one should be near me when I’m a hurricane…” “Ah! No wonder there was a passing hurricane at site today,” he replied jokingly, unfazed like moments past when I’d been emotionally volatile due to stress from … More hurricane girl; sunshine boy.
August has given way to September, and August boy too… has become September boy. I think of lush leaves greeting autumn by slowly shedding their vibrant green; those of which sparkled during the sunny days of summer are now a myriad of earthen colors with faint, crisp texture that produce a gentle rustling sound when … More in September…
Thursday’s late-late-night musing, in the form of a series of texts to Eldest Sis: If I think about it as a Muslim or a person of faith, I feel very grateful to cross path with an ally or a kindred spirit and build this new friendship-with-maybe-potential while doing what I love, and loving the person … More in August, of warmth and softening;
Thursday’s late-night musing: A strange, ironic view this evening after work: my car parked two spaces away from A, the August boy from last year. Funny that I think of him as a past lover even if strictly and honestly speaking, nothing happened. Almost, but didn’t. But maybe that was it – that potential had so … More on a rainy August night;
I secretly wonder if I’m close to falling in love; if this is what love feels like; it this is what love must feels like; if this could be what love is like; if this is love… There’s a boy with whom I’ve been exchanging poetic words and illustrations, sunset and sunrise photos, and words … More still August, with a boy.