#to file

just for the record, i’ve been really happy these past few days. i’ve had some good, honest discussions with kind women and i feel more at peace with where i am. staying in this little house has been good for me: i feel cosy and competent; i live a life of simple luxury (honey on toast, opera on the stereo, fancy coffee and thick-furred cats). what’s made most difference has been visiting friends and having friends visit: there are some wonderful, wonderful people in my life and it is such a gift to spend time with them. i love caring for them and being cared for; i love the intimacy of it. i arrived in cambridge last week in the pouring rain and a summer dress, and my precious friend gave me a towel and a hairdryer and hot tea and creamy pasta. last night when another friend came in soaked from a party i was there with the same essentials - tea, towel, hairdryer - and salve for where her heels had rubbed. one friend came up from london; college was full of conference guests so we both slept in my bed. we lay next to each other in the dark and talked and laughed and said we weren’t fully sure where our lives should be going but mostly we were fine.

(did you ever read a fic and its somehow infantile wording and absurd plotlines and stupid commonplaces annoy you very much but you can’t stop reading because the tensionbuilding between your otp is oddly so delicious…)