my parents called me the other night to tell me that colin is getting married.
colin is the boy i went to japan with, is the first boy i slept with, is the one who bore the brunt of my rage & selfishness & pretentiousness that summer i was eighteen. :::is the boy who wrote me a letter every day when i went to college, even though we'd broken up :::is the boy who said he believed me when i talked about changelings + magic + trees + the stars, & maybe he did.
he was a child the last time i saw him. we talked about childish things & we fought about childish things when we fought.
[memory i remember as bad but for all i know maybe it was okay: colin climbing out of the window of his hotel room in tokyo, walking across this definitely-not-a-balcony wide-ledge thing & climbing into my window, to climb into bed with me, trying not to wake up a_____ in the next bed.]
anyway i am maybe-reasonably & maybe-disproportionately distressed at the thought that colin is mature enough to be getting married. i wonder what slash if he thinks of me.
here is a piece of a letter he wrote me five years ago:
i torture myself sometimes trying to imagine how you think of me. i get so upset to think that you want nothing to do with me. sometimes. i'm not perfect. you are mostly, if you wouldn't let your brilliance get the best of you.
...........you made me so happy, except when you were mean.
here is a picture of our hands:
