15 December 2000

"Your bed is so SMALL And it has no support!" says Norman.

"I knooooow, baby," I whine. "But I tried to sell it and nobody bought it, and I don't have the money yet to put a futon in my living room..."

"I know, I know," he sort of whines back. The subject is dropped for a full ten seconds when he tells me something to the effect of: "You know what I think? I think this bed has a lot to do with your past, and I think you've outgrown it..." He's a little buzzed, I think, which is sort of sweet. I can tell because he's starting to make things like the size of my bed into really profound issues.

But I guess, come to think of it, he's right... Very right, buzzed or not...

My bed... My bed, which has seen me through four lovers, a couple of quasi-almost-lovers, and a lot of dreams... My bed, which lived in my dad's house, unused, for a year and a half or so, give or take. My bed, which used to be called "The Big Girl Bed," when I was 3 or 4, and which is now just a little too small for two people -- maybe too small even for one...

I haven't had the dream about the guy with the brick in a long time; the one where he kills me... I think I'm finally over it. I haven't had a suicidal thought in eight months. (Walking over the S. Washington Street Bridge to go to the Art Theater and kicking snow off of the side does NOT count...) I haven't NOT had a bed in over a year. Everything's been pretty good. I guess things have changed. There are a lot of things I've grown out of.

So I went to sleep, quite literally ON Norman, because my bed really IS pretty small...

And I dreamed of mountains. They weren't Binghamton mountains, and they weren't Santa Fe mountains. As a matter of fact, I don't know where they were. But I dreamed that the mountains turned into tigers and engulfed me in snarling, ferocious fangs and claws. It wasn't a nightmare. It was sort of sensual, I suppose; the tigers weren't trying to hurt me, just touch me.

I awoke sad. My bed is too small. It doesn't fit me anymore. Sometimes, I think my life doesn't quite fit me anymore: I've grown out of it. That's not really a bad thing, I guess.

I've been without a computer too long -- the words aren't really coming right now...

Love anyway...
~Helena*