it's cold

little bunny is snuffling.
in some ways, it comforts me. he's named after lachlan, who i call noog, (for no real reason that i remember... he calls me pickle) and who i have spend many, many evenings sleeping with or next to. his breathing was always heavy, broken with snuffles and snorts and little sounds all night long, and well into the morning, as midday was lachlan-awake time. for a long time after i moved out, and started sleeping without him next to me every night, it was hard without the little sounds. i mean, being the strange people we are, i'd still stay over there usually a few times a week - non sexually... we just loved sleeping next to each other. i find it strange sleeping next to people who are silent, or who snore, or... whatever, because i remember the little soft sounds lachlan makes, and it makes me feel at home, because i love him so much. it's hard to explain, because i don't miss being with him, in a 'girlfriend' sense. he and his partner are happy, and i am not interested in a sexual relationship with him at all. but i miss hearing him sleep and curling up next to him.

oh i feel tired, and .. not confused. just held back held back, my ideas tied down, and what i want is too muffled because well, whatever it might be, it won't, so i can't, and i leave it. but god, i just ... want to lie besides you, warm, breathing, softness, nothing else. my thoughts are there and they are so safe, and sensible, and clear, and you can run your finger down my cheek and i will smile, smile like this, you see.

this is madness.
then there is jule, who is a seperate, past madness.




jule called. ignore him, elizabeth, don't give him any more. he won't love you. he won't respect you. he won't understand why you are hurt. give it up. oh yes, not worth it, with his poetry and wandering and beautiful lies, and divine madness, and god, jule, it's only sense keeping me from calling you back, you mad, hideous arsehole, you'll spit in my eye and i'll thank you for it. and i know he's waiting, one day, to come, implore me, and hold out his hands, and i know by then, the moment will be lost, and i'll have become smart enough to know better.