January 20, 2007
Page 20
She laughed and put her hand on my leg, but drew it back. "You don't really want to talk about it, do you?"
"It wouldn't be any good."
She smoked for half a minute, threw her cigarette on the earth, and carefully stomped it out with her feet. "So you want to talk about it, but it's something you can't do justice?"
"I don't know," I said. Two birds took off from the ground, flapping into the sky. We watched them until they were out of sight. She picked up a dead twig and idly sketched in the dirt.
"Sleeping with you sometimes it makes me real sad."
"I don't think that's all," I said.
"It's not your fault. Not even if you're thinking about another girl when we're having sex. I..." She suddenly stopped and slowly drew three straight lines in the dirt. "I don't know."
"I don't really mean," I said, haltingly, "to close off my heart. I don't have a good hold on what's happened myself. I want to deal with several things as fairly as I can. I don't want to make it bigger or more real than I have to. But that'll take time."
[heavily inspired by Birnbaum; I wasn't thinking very clearly about this.]
Posted by tim at January 20, 2007 11:33 PM
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