Misery. Sweet, unwavering misery. Here I am, hidden in the depths of an unforgiving city. I am a spectacle, an animal on display. The people eat me with their eyes and I am uneasy. In passing, I divert my eyes and I feel small in doing so but realize I have no choice. Here I am, in this unforgiving city and my heart bleeds. I long for the comfort of New York, the familiarity. The acceptance. I long for the smile of a stranger. I long for a café where I can sit and think and read. A café where I can chew my pen, my lips, look up and rest my eyes on a corner in space that is filled with energy. Not monotony. Anything but this.
Still, Matt is nurturing and sweet. Sometimes he weakens and the both of us feel defeated, resting on each other for comfort; leaning on each other for support. More often, he is strong for the both of us. He is truly beautiful. And although I insist we should go to Costa Rica, I realize we cannot abandon our projects prematurely.
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