A change, a final change includes potatoes.
The Rascal is gone forever. We had our final goodbye on Sunday night and it was short and sad. Three years we spent in our little home together on top of the hill with the cable cars, asian seniors, and that bachelor with his dalmation pup. I don’t know how *in* love we were, but I have never loved a girl like I loved her.
I woke up in a strange neighborhood today. The morning sun was high and to the south. I was enjoying it on the walk to the 24 bus line, happy to be alive and thinking that maybe I will never not feel alone, but the city will always be here for me. And that’s almost enough–she always gives me back everything I give to her and more. I got to the corner of Baker and Divisadero and a woman on the corner was wearing an SF SPCA shirt. It pleased me. I asked her if she worked there. She did. “Cool,” I said.