one foot in. . . one foot back.

It's december now. And I miss Brooklyn with a raw and primal ache. Sometimes I wake up wishing for the subway and the local parks, the dirty snow and the greenmarkets. I'm utterly homesick. . . for brooklyn. . . For lost love. . . For old friends. And at night the tears roll down my cheeks, releasing the tension I've created throughout the day by feigning happiness. I pretend I'm fine. I smile constantly. I laugh freely. . . but late at night, when everyone has gone away. . . I weep. . . And it's not for badger. . . or maybe it is. I weep for home. . . because wherever home is, I'm not there yet.

I let someone else kiss me today. The first man I've kissed since I broke off the engagement. And I felt nothing. I don't know what I want anymore. I've spent the past several months hiding, scaring people away. It's easier to shield myself from love than to give in. I don't want to be hurt again. And I have no intention to allow myself that kind of pain. I don't know what I have become. . . I want to share my life with someone, but I don't want to give myself away again. . . only to be crushed underfoot and cast aside like a broken doll. It hurts too much. . . and here come the tears. After all, it is that time of night. . .