when we first started dating, one day in bed BT told me about (i think) a Polish punk song that likens that intense intimacy of the throes of early love to being together in a bathtub. I loved that image and we used it often to refer to people who were *heart-eyed*.

E met a guy here in DC and they are in the bathtub. She is so happy. Cautious, as you are when you're 38 and you meet someone you're excited about, but also she thinks he's really special. I just watch it unfolding, not envious, not anything. I ask her about it because I care about her, but I don't think I'm even that happy for her, because I'm jaded and I remember that I was in the bathtub once and now look. I think my heart might be frozen.

As I'm writing this I have little flashes of how thrilling it was to be so open. Reaching out, naked and vulnerable, and being met in that private space only for the two of you, the bathtub. Oh, hello weak wrists, there you are, my hallmark of grief.

11:13 a.m. - 2019-06-03