some more wallowing

i was surrounded by my softball team at the bar last night. we'd had a great game, we lost, but it was an awesome game anyway. we were catching up and commiserating. they said, "come on bri, you never talk about yourself, you never tell us what's wrong, and you never cry. come on, let it out, you trust us." and i told them that i do, but i don't. see, i don't really trust anyone, especially with my troubles, and extra especially with my tears. and even though i didn't pour my heart out to them in that moment, i think we bonded a little bit over an understanding of something that i can't quite get my finger on.

i do cry sometimes. i am human, afterall. and if you were my downstairs neighbor, you might have heard my head in hands action this evening, drowned out by one p j harvey. thank you, p j harvey...

"oh my lover
don't you know it's alright
you can love her
and you can love me at the same time

much to discover
i know you don't have the time
but, oh my lover
don't you know it's alright

oh my sweet thing
oh my honey thighs
give me your troubles
i'll keep them with mine

take at your liesure
take whatever you can find
but, oh my sweet thing
don't you know it's alright

it's alright
it's alright
there's no time
so it's alright

what's that color
forming around your eyes?
waltz my lover
tell me that it's alright
just another, before you go, go away
oh my lover, why don't you just say my name?
it's alright
say it's alright
there's no time"