So, I’m sitting here in the dark listening to Aimee Mann’s Christmas album, One More Drifter in the Snow. It’s so spectacularly melancholy, the perfect background music for ripping open presents or slicing open wrists.
Listening to it this year is so entirely different. I got it last year after Sara and I went to see Aimee’s Christmas concert in Boston. On the flight up one of the batteries for my breathing machine died unexpectedly, and I heroically killed a pair of pants. It was so astonishingly cold, the kind of cold that makes you wonder if you’ll ever feel warm again. It was the first Northern-winter trip I’d ever taken with my trache, so there were plenty of problems. I could have done so many things so much better.
Still, just being there with Sara, holding her close in that dark theater listening to such sadly beautiful music, life seemed pretty perfect. I just felt happy, I pictured next year being better. Now it is next year, and everything’s the opposite of what I want, it’s like a bad dream that won’t stop. I didn’t want to quit, I didn’t want her to quit, I saw things so differently. It’s just so Goddamn fucking stupid.No comments
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