Tag Archives: I Don’t Think of You (Until I Do)

An Excellent Job of Disappearing

7

I gave up drawing the bathrobe and I didn’t feel guilty.

Until I did.

.

7.3

I arranged pillows on the bed in your general size and shape and leaned into them through long, hot afternoons while scolding myself for not being more productive.

In a fit of ennui I made myself draw a bathrobe for you. I obscured the robe behind the ladder-back of a chair and suddenly understood my friend’s impulse to imagine something new behind her gate.

I had already been convinced that if I thought about you while I drew the robes I would do a better job.

Another way of saying this is that I believed that if I had sex with talented and interesting people, I would be more talented and interesting. There are formulas that corroborate this bad logic, which makes it no more accurate. Continue reading

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