Status Updates From Scaffolding

The problem with being the last person a person will ever love is just
that: you’re last. You come after a long list of desires and longings and
carnal fits and temporary satiations.

honestly I’m captivated and I hate having to put this book down.

“Things I love like the heat of the sun on my hair and in my eyes and buzzing cicadas and an expanse of grey river are all tied up in wanting him. And not being able to have him—not being able to so much as talk to him—is like not being able to have summer.”

Cmooooon

These are the tools that make me a human giving a performance of a certain kind of femininity, instead of a conglomerate of organs, bones, flesh, a former baby-house, now a neutral organism with no particular purpose except its own continuation. The elements of my daily refacing, and the first lines of defence against the inevitable.