2003-01-11 - 10:25 p.m.

isnt it funny how the feel of cotton, or the smell of hazelnut coffee, or sight of a sign immediately brings you back to a place that was hiding deep inside the memory box? but when you try to skim through the memory album, you fall short and wish you could remember those little details. like you know the sound of someones footsteps coming down the hall with your eyes closed, or the jingly sound the bracelts made when she shook her hand. or the way her eyes grew big when i talked about yet another guy.

i miss these things. i miss her. it has been a bad week, and with her dieing almost a year ago it isnt getting easier.

so i am going to scour the folds of my mind for some images of us together, or the wise words she spoke. because remembering things is as comforting as a nice warm blanket.

my house used to always smell like this one yankee candle, sugared plums. so i am off to light that same candle, and i am going to close my eyes and pretend i am home. because i want to feel warm in this cold cold condo.

have a good one.

later.