I fell in love with you the way fire spreads across a plain. Once it started, it was impossible to stop. But I didn’t fear it. It was formidable, tantalizing, I didn’t wish to put it out. I wanted it to burn until I ceased to exist, until my skin and my bones turned to hot ashes you would then tuck safely into the hollow of your chest. You blew on the flames and I let you envelop me.

I should have known that once you fall in love, the only way left to fall is apart.

You took your love back and it was like death. I was in the palm of your hand and you clenched the tightest fist, denying me breath, the flutter of my eyelids, forbidding my own heart to beat inside its newly crushed chest. I wrapped myself in the blackest hour of the night, trying to heal my broken pieces, but I couldn’t untangle myself from your fingers. Your grasp was irrevocable and the flames continued to lap at my wrists and at my neck. The burning ceased to be desirable, it became excruciating. You were killing me and you knew it.

Hearts don’t mend once they’ve been broken. They turn into unrecognizable shapes, gnarled, twisting towards a light that will never again be bright. My pieces shattered into millions, scattering themselves so wide I feared it would take a lifetime to piece them back together.

You should know that when you fall in love, you’re going to fall apart.

Went on a casual eight (at least) mile hike through the Mohonk and Minnewaska preserves with my favorite person and had the best few days I've had in a long time. 

Cutting across trails because Dane can't stay on the trail.

Lake Minnewaska

Sketchy motels are the only way.

It was amateur hour in the cover song recording department today. The first is William Fitzsimmon's "Took" and the second is Snow Patrol's "You Could Be Happy" featuring the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song. 

witches

On Halloween I went to Salem, MA with my mother. Very touristy, but still interesting. I don't recommend paying for the museums–maybe just the Witch Dungeon Museum–but the town itself is so cute and the Old Burying Point cemetery is perfect. 

Attempted to transform myself into a Morticia Addams/witch hybrid. Having black hair would have been much more effective. 

This is very blurry.

Mother dearest.

Stumbled upon my initials. Then I found a near replica of this headstone, only the initials were AB instead of EB. My sister's name is Abigail. Fun finds!

the last time i sat in the rain, begging it to wash me away, i could not pin point the pain.
this time i know, and i can't bear it.

I'm trying to hide things that remind me of you, but not get rid of them. I will not erase you. I just want to stop feeling so sad that you can't be who I needed you to be. We're different, and I need time, but I won't let you go.

I went for a walk down my road with my camera on a nice day. 

The house across the street from my own. Inhabited briefly a few times a year by possible killers. 

The red leaves are my favorite.

No one lives here anymore. The people who own it stopped coming up years ago. It's absolutely haunted. 

My house. Built by my dad and only half haunted, since we live on property containing multiple foundations of old homes from the 1800s and the ghosts like to visit.

A ghost has been messing with my rearview mirror. Two mornings in a row it had been moved drastically. The thirdly morning, after asking my dad if he'd been in my car, it was untouched, but I locked my car that night anyway. The next morning it was turned down again. I did not move it. I thought long and hard about if I had by accident. I did not.

SOS

Life in Vermont is dull and agonizing and exhaustingly repetitive. I went back to work at my old high school job–a gift shop at the top of a small mountain with a large view–after the owner called me, basically begging me to work for him during the oh so popular foliage season. In a desperate attempt to avoid tedious job applications and learning a new work place, I agreed. I'm sure it was a mistake. I'm uninspired and severely lacking mental stimulation. There is so much time for my mind to plummet to its dark, cavernous place where anguish prevails above all else. One night in particular I was so upset I drank at least a full bottle of cheap Pinot Noir and woke up to my pajama pants on the floor and the memory of sending borderline suicidal texts to Dane. It was like being back in high school when my cries for emotional help were overwhelming, uncomfortable, and not taken seriously.

That's it. Other than acquiring my very own car, nothing else has happened. The winter is fast approaching and I'm desperate to get out of here before it hits hard.

Every cold morning I drink "Full Moon" coffee, and every morning I try to be a witch. I've yet to be successful.

Introducing Ady (pronounced like "80"), my very age appropriate, classy car. God bless freedom.

I had a moment with this dog through our respective cages, mine being the gift shop, his being an actual cage.

In hell, having a casual cocktail with the raspberry liqueur we sell at the gift shop. Cocktail hour was surprisingly not my idea, but that of my 58ish year old coworker, Toni. She's a delight when I am not feeling so delighted, which is always.

The book I've been waiting for. I relate to Lena's stories more than I care to admit.

At home, soaking in the pretty leaves. I actually have been quite enchanted by the leaves this year, especially the red ones. I've nearly crashed my car multiple times from photo taking and observing.

This post feels like one giant white girl problem, so I'd like to say I am incredibly grateful that I have a home, fantastic parents, a car, and a job (even though I'm only making 10/hour, which sucks, but okay, it's a job).

baking soda

After hearing all about it on the internet, I finally tried using baking soda as a face wash. I loved it. It made my skin so smooth, and I have very acne prone skin so it's difficult getting my face to feel nice. 

I used a small tupperware (so if it fell in the shower it wouldn't break) to mix 3 tablespoons of baking soda and about 1.5 tablespoons of water. I applied it all over my face and let it sit for about five minutes before rinsing it off. Once my face dried I applied my normal face lotion. My skin stayed smooth for a few days, so you really only need to do this once a week. 

you

My sweetest, sweetest love, getting tanned by the sun and ripped from bike riding. I miss everything about you. I miss making dinner together, especially in your kitchen because you had plenty of counter space and I could sit on your couch and watch HBO shows when I wasn't needed. I miss biking alongside you. I miss the distance between the subway stop and your apartment. I miss your hand grabbing my a$$ in public. I miss your a$$. I miss eating miso soup and sushi. I miss rendezvousing through the grocery store. I miss you pointing out cute birds to me. I miss your curiosity and desire to learn, and then your eagerness to share with me. I miss your awful pillows and you letting me take the better of the two. I miss seeing you walk towards me, and how I could pick you out from so far away because of how well I know your body and the way you walk. I miss the dimples in your lower back. I miss your hand searching for mine.

I swear it's like I'm missing my right arm. Even amongst all the pain of our changing relationship, I miss you more than I can possibly bear to think about. 

I'm haunted by this torment every moment
I cannot shake you out of my bones the way i want to
I cannot extract you from the pores in my skin, and lately
you feel so close to a sin

I've been pushing so hard,
and you only push hack a little
I'm stuck in this place
I'm stuck in the middle
of you, and where i need to be

arms such a mess around your waist
fingers laced in your hair
my eyes entrapped in the darkest
the deepest parts of you

if you haven't noticed, i'm dying
you said you wanted me alive
but my love
you're the one who's killing me.

special water

Yesterday I "made" rosemary-blueberry-lemon infused water, and it's really delicious. Just fill a pitcher with water and add however much you like of rosemary, blueberries, and lemon. And it's so pretty!

rafting

Yesterday I went white water rafting for the first time with Zoar Outdoor in western Mass, and it was truly riveting. It was. I was terrified before getting in the water because I'd been expecting the unruliest rapids, but once in the boat, paddle in hand, I felt much more comfortable. Even going through the rapids seemed like a breeze (maybe a bit of a strong breeze, or like, a medium wind), but then at the end of the day I looked back through the photos taken of us, and in every one I was leaning into the center of the boat being completely useless paddling-wise. But the photos were all taken at the scariest moments when we really weren't even required to paddle! I swear, I did so well other than those particularly unfortunate moments. Our guide was very impressed with the occupants of our raft; apparently we were exceptionally strong considering he usually has to deal with people who have probably never held a paddle in their lives. Thanks to my father, I've been on many kayaking journeys, being on the river all day for 3-4 days straight. I used to ride in the boat with him and let him do all the work, but when I got old enough I got my own boat like a real life adult. So paddling through a river is not a strange concept to me.

I was also feeling pretty good all day, and I'm pretty sure our guide was flirting with me as subtly as he could since my father was sitting in the same boat as us, but along with looking useless in the photos that were taken, I also looked, uh, NOT cute. Does everyone go through this? I hate seeing photos of myself, especially when I'm wearing a life vest and a helmet. I can't wear a helmet, not have on any makeup, and be out in a river for 3 hours and expect to look good. Damn it.

The ways in which we fit into each other's lives aren't the same as they were in the beginning or the middle. But promise me there will never be an end, only endless beginnings and middles.

saddest songs

My favorite songs to sing are by Daughter. The first is called "Youth" and the second is "Landfill." Sad songs are the only way. 

I've been sketching in my new sketchbook. I have the talent of a twelve year old, but I'm still thoroughly enjoying myself. 

supermarket

You made me nervous, and I wasn't sure how to act. It had been so long, it was like being with you for the first time all over again. But we were rounding into the frozen food section of the supermarket when you made a joke, and then turned to me and kissed me quick, right on my lips. I stood in place, smiling, a little surprised, and relieved that you still wanted to kiss me.

la citta

My trip to New York was as perfect as I'd hoped it would be. I usually expect the worst since my luck is less than ideal, but everything was wonderful. Dane met me at Grand Central when I got off my train and stayed with me through the following day, which was my birthday. We went to Coney Island where I discovered I now get nauseous on rides, and we cooked dinner later that night after I'd gotten drinks with my best friend at Manchester Pub, my old place of work. I proudly flaunted my new red bag from Beacon's Closet and my Lena Dunham "birthday suit tee." On Thursday night, after eating too much sushi, we found a gorgeous spot in Brooklyn where we could see the tip of Manhattan. Exploring with Dane is my absolute favorite activity. 

Of course the week couldn't end without Dane and me discussing the inevitable: what we *are*. [My] tears flowed relentlessly, because really how could they not, but everything worked out as well as they possibly could given the situation. I can't imagine a life without Dane in it, and from I can tell, he feels the same about me. But that isn't always reason enough to stay in a legitimate relationship, because there are outside factors you can't control. I left New York, but even if I'd stayed I wouldn't have been happy there. Dane needs to find happiness for himself as well, so we're both on our own journeys. Thank goodness we can still talk and visit each other through it all. As devastated as I am that we're no longer exactly what I want to be, this is worlds better than cutting ties entirely. I do have fears and hesitations about our more friendly situation, but I can barely think about them let alone write them down. I have to keep them from plaguing my head so I don't go crazy. 

Coney Island.

Dane's apartment, one of my favorite places to be.

The view from Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Love note.

"I always feel like a freak, because I’m never able to move on like… this, you know? People just have an affair, or even entire relationships, they break up and they forget. They move on like they would have changed brand of cereals. I feel I was never able to forget anyone I’ve been with. Because each person has their own specific qualities. You can never replace anyone. What is lost is lost. Each relationship, when it ends, really damages me. I never fully recover. That’s why I’m very careful with getting involved, because it hurts too much. Even getting laid! I actually don’t do that… I will miss on the other person the most mundane things. Like I’m obsessed with little things. Maybe I’m crazy, but when I was a little girl, my mom told me that I was always late to school. One day she followed me to see why. I was looking at chestnuts falling from the trees, rolling on the sidewalk, or ants crossing the road, the way a leaf casts a shadow on a tree trunk… Little things. I think it’s the same with people. I see in them little details, so specific to each of them, that move me, and that I miss, and will always miss. You can never replace anyone, because everyone is made of such beautiful specific details. Like I remember the way your beard has a bit of red in it. And how the sun was making it glow, that morning, right before you left. I remember that, and I missed it. I’m really crazy, right?"

–Before Sunset

I have not even seen this movie, but I saw this quote, and no words have ever described me more. This is my entire being in a nutshell.

I could feel the inevitable force of circumstance looming in the distance, positioning itself at the end of the month, waiting to knock me down with a cruel blow to the chest. We both tried to ignore it, but it was always there, like a black lingering cloud.

I tried not to collapse under the pressure that kept building. I tried not to fall into darkness. 

phone

the pain moved from the hollow of my chest to the pit of my stomach. anticipation and anxiety were replaced with a burning sadness of acceptance i could not shake. 
it was okay.
i had the moon and my own reeling mind, and they were all i needed. i was meant to feel forgotten, lost, only a fragment. 
it hurt, but it was meant to. 

yahtzee

Yesterday my parents and I went on an impromptu camping trip to Jamaica State Park, VT, aka the no service capital of the Northeast. Not a single hint of a signal for miles. I'm all about not using my phone–in theory–but when it comes down to it, I go into full panic mode when I can't communicate with Dane for 18 hours. I kept distracted by biking five miles, hiking two miles, experiencing severe dehydration, swimming in the coldest river ever, and eating too many Twizzlers. I also almost ran over a snake with my bike, and on four separate occasions I found a daddy long legs crawling up my sweatshirt. What the fuck is with daddy long legs? They need to not.

The perfect outdoors look: hiking sneakers and a fanny pack.

I so badly wanted to sit in this ridiculously clear water.

On a different note, Dane let me know this afternoon that he got work off for the time I'm in NYC next week. Since things with us have been, uh, iffy, I was so overwhelmed with joy I couldn't really decide how to react. I'd been preparing myself for a very lonely and sad NYC trip without Dane, but I think it will turn out much better than expected. I got his text after I'd been browsing through our shared Photobucket account and (kind of) crying...