Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York
Las Vegas, 12/25/09
Christmas Day. Gray and still. Marie gave me journal as gift.
Conversation with Marie at restaurant on the outskirts of town over bottle of wine brings up old unsettled wounds. She realizes that she has struck a nerve as she goes outside for a smoke. When she comes back in she stops behind my chair, shakes my head back and forth, and says, "that's what you need, isn't it? To be shaken up. Someone needs to shake you up." She leans in and kisses me in a conciliatory fashion and I tell her that she already has.
I try to let it go, as I love her.
But the wounds run deep.
I decide that I have to write something - finish my book - to shut everyone up. I tell her this as we walk into the movie and she gives me a wary glance.
I love her.