Ben gave me this laptop. He got a new one. “Take this,” he said. “Maybe you’ll actually write this way.”
So I took it, and I’m probably writing a bit more these days. Still, I have my favorite journal and pen beside me. Just past the edge of Anthony’s desk blotter, close to my right hand. As though I might actually use them, ever.
The journal is really nice, hardbound, has good paper. It is the best of the twelve or so that I’ve collected over the years, and I really do love holding it. Sometimes pressing the cover against my face calms my thoughts. The pen is lovely, ordered from a website that specializes in expensive, beautiful things. I’m sure it writes flowing and true.
Ben calls these things my teddy bears. I often call him my kitty cat, so there’s a certain balance to us.
Right now Ben is upstairs in his room, most likely sleeping. Tuesday is his ban on social activity night, and we did tear up some wine with dinner. Also after dinner, while ignoring a movie.
Also, there’s the bottle at my left hand. This one has been mine alone, and I have actually used it. Honestly, though, it takes more for me. Nature. Even now I’m hardly fuzzy.
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