The daily adventures and travails of one neurotic, klutzy, hungry, cynical college girl. Tune in for prizes! (offer void where prohibited. See office for details. Not responsible for lost articles.)
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Adult Joe Wenteworth: When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming. What I remember most to this day was my mother's scent and how I hated it when it began to disappear. First from her closets, then from her dresses she had sewn herself and then finally from her bedsheets and pillow cases. Simon and I never talked much about that day on the baseball field. It was too painful for both of us. For as much as I loved my mother, I knew that Simon loved her just as much. She was the only real mother he ever had.
I abhor losing good scents. I am uncontrollably obsessed with good scents.
11:26 PM
|
|
| |
|
|
|
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home