when M and I are together, I don't talk about the city.  it bleeds into my thoughts like a stain.  we talk about music and books and whether Obama will do what he said he was going to do, and he holds me and keeps the chill away.

I want to ask him - has he been there, has he seen the trees that are full of people?  has he seen a funeral and the old man with the hidden feet.

I can't.

they seem to imply that he'll run away if I do.

he asked me to be his girlfriend on Saturday.
I was calling him 'boyfriend' in my head before that, but I never said it to him.
I said yes.

I tried writing this down on paper, but I wanted to share it with more than just me because it's such a weird story that I am not sure that I am not crazy.  No, I am sure.  I think.

I could write a history of me and M and why he's the first boyfriend I ever seriously fooled around with, but that sounds kinda high-school.  And it really isn't about me and him, but about what happened.

Today at work I asked Dr. Tomlinson if he ever had weird dreams and he said yes and then he said he had a dream once that he was at a med school alumni dinner but he was dressed in a banana suit and he had to make a speech. 

I asked him if he'd ever dreamed about a city where some people had the heads of animals and ostriches pulled a cart driven by a ostrich-headed person.

He said no and asked if I had been doing drugs.

I haven't.