This Week in the Summer of Love IV

Outside I heard the neighbors fighting tonight. They have two kids. He said he was leaving. She cried and said don't leave. There was nothing unique about it. Comforting. But I think they knew I could hear, and that just made it worse. And I hate that they have kids. I want to believe I'll be a better parent, a bigger person, but will I?



Shelley and I have been talking about this being open to v. open with people thing. Keeps running through my head. Along with the befuddling phrase I never promised to be a good person, I never promised to be a good person.



It occurred to me that, aside from my mother, my longest relationship has been with my car; six years and going strong! If I were Pablo Neruda I would write an Ode to my car. Remember when we went to the beach and your car got dug so far into the sand that guy had to tow you out but my car did just fine? Yeah.



I have a long standing fear of soul mates actually existing. See, this is how I met the only guy I've loved. Walking with a friend down a ski slope in the middle of the night in a snowstorm. Two figures approached. I turned to my friend and said I don't know who those guys are, but whoever they are, anyone else crazy enough to walk through this must be our fucking soul mates. And I stayed with one of those figures approaching for the next three and a half years or so. So if he was my soul mate, is that it? Am I done? Maybe it's just safer to believe that.



I've got until the 28th to sum up my summer and I feel like I'm searching for something real, something to pull me through the damage another term of law school will do. The whole saudade serenade. The last leg of Summer of Love IV (I say we made it a IVth, if nothing else because we're all still in Portland and we still want it). Saudade for truth. Naked honesty. Saudade for Summers of Love.