love makes me sick. this is predictable.
in honor of today's feast, i will just remind everyone that maybe i should have been a nun, joined the poor clares at our lady of guadalupe in roswell, en-em.
fits of melodrama! i am allowed. i am tired & when i think about the people i desperately love i just want to be done with all the desperation.
in a couple of hours i will feel better. i am writing all of this surreptitiously. in a couple of hours the house will not smell just of chocolate & coconut as it smells now (& nothing wrong with that, mind you), but also of congrí, which is to say of sofrito & arroz tío bén & tiny beans, red ones.
