i feel funky. i don’t really know why. :/
Daphne Groeneveld in Tom Ford photographed by Sebastian Kim for Numero Russia #2, April 2013
the only consolations i have about this long distance relationship right now are that i haven’t shaved my legs in a month and i just ate an enormous bar of chocolate and didn’t have to share it with anyone
in someone else’s house, as your hosts stand politely in the shadows. you thank them as you leave.
at the train station, where the conductor smiles and says yes, he’ll take a picture.
in the airport with his best friend, so no tears allowed.
in the airport again, but this time you’re the one going through security and there’s no way to hold it back. the man in the elevator turns to the other direction.
in the airport before, at the beginning. these tears are nervous tears; bittersweet.
in the hostel, while a stranger sleeps on the couch next to you.
in your neighborhood, down the street from your house. the rain is just starting to fall and this is the first time.
at the bus station, you feel yourself melting into a puddle, but then you pick yourself up drive home alone.
at least every goodbye has a hello: friends squealing at the airport or a cautious hug and quick kiss or “what was the movie on the flight? how was the food?” or even a nervous introduction, that just needed time to become something special.
when everything is sad, there is a snake inside of you, squeezing and squeezing
i can’t get any of my feelings about anything in order, so i just lift one foot at a time.