At 6:30 a.m., it’s still a very gray morning, as though the sun were mourning with us, keeping it’s shining face respectfully low. Behind the tiny tiny church in the miniscule hamlet where my grandmother used to live, my family gathers to say goodbye to their matriarch. Although it’s the middle of March, a January wind blows through the half-dead
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This is really beautiful and poetic, and goddamnit, I want to hug you, but I'm leaving for work in about an hour and a half, so hopefully, you'll be on by then. This is the first entry in a while that's made me smile -and- cry.
My parents weren't happy when they found out I was bi, (-aaand- dating another woman), and then mom ended up asking me if I was still bisexual every couple months ("Yes, mom."), and Dad makes jokes about us going to the strip club together and picking up women. So, it's the same old, same old thing.
I do have to mention: 6:30 am? EEEEEEEEEGH.
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~G~
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<3 gwennie
PS - add mee! :)
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