i'm drowning in sunny light.

it's typically to hard to tell whether i've slept too much, or far too little. this week has already seemed to fly by, and i hope the days remain this way, because it seems as though christmas will arrive in june.

my birthday is on the 7th of june, and my lover's is on the 9th. and days after i turn 20, and lover turns 21, we'll move into our very first home. it may be just an apartment, but it's so stunning there, and there is something about it that gives me faith that this new home will bring me back to who i was. i know i said this in january, but i suppose i never stepped back and realized that although we've lived together for over a year, we have never lived alone. i feel that this is what i needed all along. the sense of exclusively belonging to a someone and a somewhere. maybe i crave the simple joy of sleepily walking down the hallway in the morning, wearing underwear and an old t-shirt, fumbling around in the kitchen for a bowl of cereal. maybe it's knowing that i get to plan dinner for him, or that i can sing in the shower again, and watch movies in my living room late at night. i can't wait for the night where i need to clear my head and can simply sit on my balcony and read, or disregard every emotion as i dive into the pool.

i blame it on the heat

it's hardly 102 degrees here, but i'm already experiencing the joy and bliss of suffocating in my car for minutes until the air conditioner decides it truly wants to blow cold air. finally, when i break down and turn on the air in the house, i feel good again, and think that i can possibly survive the heat and run errands wearing jeans and a shirt with sleeves. i've been terribly mistaken. i'm saddened to admit that after the past few days weather, i don't have a skirt short enough, and a shirt low enough to brave this weather. it seems the heat will not be content until my hair is pinned away from my skin, and my skirt is exposing my ass.

these past few weeks have gone by in record time. in some ways it's terrible, because the day i'm just beginning to enjoy is usually already ending. but in the absence of time and sleep, i'm surprised at how numb the work week is capable of making me. i pack a lunch to be eaten at work, i set my alarm every night, i greet my co-workers with a smile, and suddenly a month has passed. my life seems to be navigating itself, as though i am on auto-pilot, and my only concern should be going along for the ride. how strange life is.

are you thinking what i'm thinking?
i'm thinking i should post the link to the recipe for strawnana bread.
my advice: use 1/2 cup more banana,
omit the orange zest, and don't mash the strawberries!

strawnana bread.

for once i have a complete lack of words but i'd like to write just to state a few important facts about my day today.

one, i just made strawberry banana bread and i'm pining over it.
two, i work full-time overnight from 2:30 to 11:30 a.m now, so my life is nothing like it was. (this is my excuse for not writing in nearly a month)
three, i miss and adore my lover very much. i'm always sleeping when he comes home now.
four, i wish i had something more significant to say here.

i suppose it's the lack of sleep that is causing the lack of words. i haven't felt awake in nearly 3 weeks, but i suppose that's where my pay check is going to "compensate".

i simply wake up at 2:00 a.m, wash my face, brush my teeth, get dressed in the dark, and leave by 2:20. i arrive at work at 2:30. i turn on the television in my edit bay to serve as background noise, considering the edit bays are so cold and isolated, the presence of a television almost feels as cozy as a fire place. on a good day, i work until 5:15. on a busy day, i work until 7. no matter the day though, from 7 to 9:00, i've got absolutely nothing to do, so i've watched good morning america every day of work, until 9 a.m when i go on my lunch break. i drive home with the windows down, singing, watching all of the joggers jog, the walkers walk, and the old people drive 27 mph in a 45mph zone. i put my purse down and open the door to my bedroom where he is sleeping, in our blankets, alone. i kiss him and he wakes up slowly. on some occasions he's heard me before i opened the bedroom door and will fake like he's sleeping, and when i go in to give him a subtle kiss, he kisses me spontaneously and throws me on the bed, and into the blankets with him. sometimes we fall asleep. other times we'll eat breakfast together. one hour is fleeting, and it's time to go back to work where i have one hour and 30 minutes left of my shift. so i return, finish my noon show, and then i'm free.

free to do what now, i'm unsure.

the time traveler's wife

as i turned the last page in my book my heart sank, and i needed to hear his voice. i reached beside me into a void in my purse where my cell phone should have been. i fumbled through pockets that house an abundance of paper, chapstick, and ink pens. my efforts turned up only my keys, which i took eagerly, flinging the door to my edit bay open, just to reach you. i had almost forgotten to ask permission, or merely inform my producer of where i was headed. as i reached my car i confirmed how predictable i am, my cell phone hidden under a pile of cds and strawberry mint gum. i began to dial your number but my cell phone did not respond. the battery had met its demise while waiting in the car. and for reasons seemingly unprovoked, i leaned my head against the door and began to cry.

i just needed to be near you. the character in the book was you, and in the book i was your lover, and the story ended so unpleasantly that i couldn't bear the idea of the characters ending up the way they had. i had gotten so involved between the pages of this book. it took nearly an entire night to recover from those pages; i wished they were endless. i wished the characters were invincible. i wished him and i were invincible. i wished we could be guaranteed to always be in love, and come home safely to each other. the book seemed to introduce me to the reality of knowing that one day him and i will have our last kiss. i cannot be comforted, even if i was told that our last kiss would be when we both will reach nearly 100 years old. i will never be satisfied with endings. my heart would break in 80 years the same as it would today.

i feel alive.

i feel like jumping on the bed. or telling someone a secret. but i keep no secrets, and this is certainly an improper time to jump on my bed. i don't recognize myself these past few days. i've been relentlessly spewing thoughts and questions. my bravery has taken most by surprise. i suppose that's why i'm so pleased with it, because i feel constantly underestimated. i suppose it's just leftover from the days where i was quiet, and could easily blend into the background of a party like wallpaper. now i suddenly want to tell you about myself, i want you to hear who i am. in case you've forgotten me, in case you don't understand me, in case you're curious to hear who i am, or what i was. i simply want to be unforgettable.

two weeks, two years, or just tonight.

i breathed a sigh of relief upon opening my mailbox. it's been weeks since my laptop was working but it feels like years, not for a lack of the ability to check my email, but because of the overflow of thoughts and dreams that have had no place to be written down. my hands are much too impatient to be writing things i am thinking at the speed of light. i don't know where to begin now, or what to say. i'm overwhelemed. i feel as though i've grown over the past few weeks, but i'm unsure i could describe how. maybe it's because boredom has driven me to start reading again and i've been engrossed between pages, and allowed myself the pleasure of becoming lost with headphones in my ears.

i'm awfully excited to be back.

my heavy head is full of debris.

this is the third night i've sat cross-legged, with a blanket over my head to shield the light of my laptop from his sleeping eyes. from the outside i imagine i look like a tent. from the inside i imagine the light illuminates only the exhaustion in my eyes. i feel so separated in here. the sound of the fan keeps me grounded, because otherwise i don't know where i would feel like i was.

tonight i felt his touch but my mind would not acknowledge it. i was miles away. my vacancy tangibly surfaced, uninvited. we were in each others arms but i'm unsure of where i was. for a second i thought i had begun to recite lyrics in my head, or maybe i had started to silently question if it was raining outside. i wondered if he was aware that my mind was elsewhere, and if maybe his was elsewhere too. i wondered if he could somehow notice just by being near me, or that he could somehow see it in my eyes, but it was much too dark to tell. the only light i could faintly see was from the moon, creating shadows and shapes in the corner of the ceiling. he seemed so tangible, and when he spoke to me i responded but i don't think i can recall what i had said in return. in the midst of my happy day, i started to feel overcome with sadness.

i'm unsure i can sleep tonight. at times i regret that my mind has such a capacity for spontaneous thought processes. these are the nights i wish i wasn't afraid of the dark. i need fresh air, i crave to see the stars. now i can only pray for a headache tonight. the headaches that exists behind the eyes, and creep around to every part of your neck and head, until sleep becomes mandatory.