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By Jennifer Weiner Submitted by Meredith Date: 2004 Mar 25 Comment on this Work [[2004.03.25.12.46.10460]] |
| "I spent the weekend at Bruce's apartment. It was one of those times where we got it just right: good sex, a nice meal out, lazy afternoons trading seciton of the Sunday Times, and then I was on my way home before we started grating on each other. We talked about my mother a little bit, but mostly I got to just lose myself with him. And he gave me his favorite flannel shirt to wear home. It smelled like him, like us: like dope and sex, his skin and my shampoo. It was too tight across my chest - all of his things were - but the sleeves fell to my fingertips, and I felt enclosed, comforted, as if he was there hugging me tight, holding my hands." |