Sand in my shoes
I’m home.
It was a good trip, with rough patches. California was a hard, desolate place, but an oasis awaited over on the Atlantic. I forgot how much my ability to survive my native Pacific shores was dependent upon two people - and their absence made the place profoundly unpleasant.
Home precisely in time to cover a big Gucci launch, which was grueling as I had to hit the ground running. A week later, I am still recuperating. And now for resuming, re-assuming my normal life. “Normal.”
How quickly does The Unturned Worm re-squirm into my conscious. I so miss him. What to do? I have already allowed those bridges to be burned.
Trying to forget. Trying.
