i don't know what i'm doing, and i have no idea what anybody else is doing either. it's the 12th. our anniversary day. five years one month ago i walked home from a different apartment, in a different city, but with the same clear sky above and cystal snow underfoot. c. left on wednesday, and i haven't slept at home since then, at night at least.

i spent thursday night at r.'s house, friday night at work till 7:30 in the morning, last night in someone else's bed. m. he broke up with his girlfriend two months ago, and still lives with her, sort of. parallel situation to mine. the room was her's: floral bedspread, all white ikea furniture, mineral make up on the window sill. apparently she brings guys there too when he's not around, but it still felt strange, like i had stepped through a mirror and was on the other side of the exact same situation.

in bed with him, considering his clumsy hands and clumsy kisses and fast breath in my ear, i thought about something i heard, that every time you sleep with someone you give them a little part of yourself. am i getting anything back from these boys? it doesn't feel like it.