right now it doesn't matter.

i have what i think are the words to bellyfish in my head. i'm afraid to write them down in case they're wrong. imagine that, afraid of myself and my own censure.

i remember that when i first came back i always expected p to beat me up verbally. and i always imagined that day when i would yank up the sleeves of my shirt and scream

you see this?
you see what i do to myself?
do you think there is ANYTHING that you could possibly say to me
that would hurt me more than the things i say to myself?

and for some reason the idea gave me a certain amount of satisfaction.
to see the shock on her face.
she prides herself on being unshockable, i think. or, at least, too tough to show it.

but, i'm still waiting.
i'm not sure what it says about me.
probably something unpleasant.

but i love the rain.