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Saturday, March 11, 2006

This.

This morning, amidst the comfort of sleepy eyes and tousled sheets, three little words spilled out of my mouth. And now I am frightened at the magnitude of this, frightened at how I can't seem to understand what this is exactly and how this came to be, frightened that I've gone and pre-empted a good thing. When you take away the rationality, strip me down to just bones and breathing, all I'm left with is this, this, this. But I don't say things like this, and I don't feel things like this, and I've run out of corners to hide my embarrassment in. Forgive me, please.

sherry @ 8:30:00 pm
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