| now is | once was | came from | heard tell |

11:46 p.m. - 2004-06-22

Creative: good. My head: bad.

I'm choreographing a show for a dance party; it will be on Saturday. I've performed before but I've never taken on board this much responsibility for a show. It’s supposedly a group effort but the vast majority of the creative energy has been coming from me (I guess my bossiness just comes shining through). It's a lot of fun, scary and rewarding. The audience will be 400. We had a rehearsal tonight and it went really, really well. I'm feeling really good about it all now. We have another ten hours of rehearsal between now and then but all we need to do is polish and perfect. I'm also in the process of making another paper zine. Creative output makes me happy. I've been holding it all in for the duration of end-of-semester stress; it feels really good to let it flooding out.

I spent today hanging out with my two of my sisters and my eight month old niece (I have too many sisters for me to keep track of them, so don't you start trying). It was an epic trawl around a shopping mall. When the mother of the child invited me out for the day she didn't mention that I would be pushing shopping trolleys (yes, plural) and entertaining the baby for hours-long circuits of homewares stores, but oh well. The baby was cute, in a gooey kind of way. She's incredibly mobile and climbs up people like a weird mutant worm/monkey hybrid. She's pretty funny looking, but don’t tell her mother that. I dutifully pretend she is the prettiest baby ever, and doesn't have sticky-out ears and a triple chin.

The event that the firefighter and I were supposed to perform at was on the weekend. I went; I knew she would be there. I asked her permission first, as a way of letting her know my intentions. I dressed up, and down, at the same time: more conservative than I would normally dress for an event like that. At the last one I wore a strapless pinstripe mini-dress and corset. To this one, I wore a princess-sleeve velvet shirt and long, ruffled satin skirt. Someone told me I looked like Snow White with red hair. The firefighter looked incredible. Predictably wonderful, striking and handsome and… It was only the third time I’d seen her since the end of things.

And we talked… well, first I cried. Then we talked. And I don't know… argh. I don't know. Everything is still there. All the attraction, the sparks, the respect, the love I have for her. It's all there. And it gets harder and harder to remember why it ended. Why I thought it would be a good idea. I don't want to be the lesbian cliché who can never finalise a break-up but keeps going and banging her head against the same brick wall, but… yeah. But.

My head keeps coming back to this point, this question. Would I get back together with her? Oh yes. Right now I would. But would that be a good idea? I have absolutely no idea. I don't know if she would want to. I don't know if all the same things would still be wrong. Would we be back together for three weeks and then have it end again? Would that be worth the pain? Are we really good for each other, or do we just look good together? There always felt like such a power imbalance between us, but it went the wrong way. Her adoration for me just far outscales mine for her, although I do adore her. A lot. Argh. See Pink bang her head against the same brick wall, over and over again! Yay!

I've lusted after the bartender for so long, waited patiently for the opportunity to revisit our fleeting interaction. Would I walk away from this for the firefighter? Right now… yes. Is this just a symptom of mourning? Is this first-month nerves with the new interaction?

Anyone with answers… feel free to let me know.

- |+

[Phone Home] - 2005-02-22

[She hurts, even from here, she hurts.] - 2005-02-11

[Two weeks and counting] - 2005-01-31

[Dirty] - 2005-01-20

[Here Now] - 2005-01-18