💾 Archived View for di.cities.yesterweb.org › entry › 221101.gmi captured on 2024-08-18 at 17:16:54. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2023-01-29)
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November 1, 2022
He worries a lot, just like I do.
Last night he said, “It doesn’t bother you how I text you everyday, right?”
“No! Why would it bother me to hear from someone I...”
It almost slipped out of my mouth, as simply as stating a fact. I slowed myself down, thought of how else to phrase it... “someone who I care for.”
There was a time when I never thought that saying that word could cause any pain. Now it seems damning.
When he first blurted it out the other day, I gasped as if it were surprising, even though every other word of that torrid conversation was slowly creeping towards it.
He immediately said, “I’m sorry – is it too soon?”
Damned if I know; the word ended up being said quite a few times.
Mr. Spock once told me that loving me felt like a mental illness. He laughed, as he often liked to laugh at mean thoughts. I tried to find the humor in what he said, too, but instead I thought of the ways that people have cried and clung to my body as if they were holding on for dear life, and all I felt was rather sad.
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