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Writer's pictureVictoria

I'm headed into Fall, trying not to figure it out

How to lovergirl fall when your heart is broken and you are still learning to forgive and you feel you don’t own your sexuality?


Can you love without sexuality?


“The man in despair is not the man who writes.*”


Saturday morning I listened to live jazz which always makes me want to fall in love and then I remembered I am in love with the friends beside me and the world around me and the color of the man’s guitar and the way his ring and bangle adds adornment


Saturday night I cried because the friends beside me didn't understand the weight within me 

(Love is risky because it hurts so terribly when they misread you


When they think you can handle more than you can and they don’t prepare you for the decision they’ve made; moving away, confronting dynamics, breaking up, staying together)

Its enough to make you never want to hear live jazz again


A good guitar riff makes me think maybe I am ready for a relationship. Reality makes me think maybe I'm just wearing a flannel so cozy that it reminds me of a lover’s comfort. A night out makes me think no one will ever understand me and my past will haunt me forever and there’s only so much Marc Anthony can do to soothe my pain. Eventually I'll have to face it head on, no music, no alcohol, no drugs. Dead sober. Lover girl fall can only sustain itself with temporary sobriety – from self hatred, limitations, comparison, etcetera, etcetera – between it all.


(With hungover apple picking on a sunday morning and thrifted clothes. With forgiveness forgiveness forgiveness. With trust that those you love love you back)


I keep finding myself hidden under my bed sheets thinking “I just want my mom.” What is it about a mom? I read something^ about cinema and the Oedipus complex and I think the thing about a mom is they know all the life lessons; the ones on the big screen, the ones on the little screen. They know life, they lived it, and they gave it to us. 


When I say I just want my mom what I really mean is I just want to understand. That's why when our mother dies we grieve so hard. The possibility of understanding life dies with her. But once we understand this, the possibility comes back… 


I don't know where I am going with this. It's 2:10am. I’m a little drunk, I have to pee, and my eyes are red and puffy from hysteria. I may not remember typing this by tomorrow. I want to tell myself that it will all pass. All of it – the bad and the good, the in between, the before and after.  


Understanding is not necessary. Love is the summation of it all. Fall is the reality of change. Buy a pumpkin, say grace. There’s not much else to do until the party is over and even then we won’t have sorted it all out.


*James Baldwin

^My Mother, the Cinema by David Pendleton



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