Her leopard print cigarette case reminded me of a 21st century oscar wilde fan. her generosity was lovely and unexpected.

the rest of the weekend was heavy but full of beautiful moments. There were some ups and downs with M on Sunday - there appear to be some ructions in his heart about all these good looking male friends I have, but i'm on and on at him about talking about stuff. So last night finished much better than it started, and after an hour spent with me lying in the tub, and him sitting on a chair in our quiet suburban bathroom where we went back and forth, amid sniffles and sighs from me - we went to bed smiling and snuggly.

My honest long talk over a loooong breakfast in Freo with VC was the highlight of the weekend though. To say things that even in my head sometimes are taboo. That this is not the great love. Or at least not the greatest. That although it isn't, does not mean this is some terrible compromise.
I can't base my life around dreams, and I can't be with dreamers. He has to be a doer, and M is, and that's enough for me.
The greatest love passed and I'm just glad it existed.

So here is the start of my suburban life. Coffee at sparrow's far and dew on the grass; clackety clack down streetlit sidewalks to the briskly awake station, freeway roaring on either side. I'm looking forward to cooking dinner in your kitchen that we're going to make ours.