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12.19.00 - 9:24:29

we were at the movies in a darkened theater, and i hatehatehate when writers say a darkened theater, because when is the theater not darkened? and you left for a minute and we were watching being john malkovich and i was absorbed so when you left it was more like i sensed you leaving and there was less heat at my right. or something. and when you came back my hand was resting on your armrest and my fingers were cold so you covered them with your hands, which were warm and were always warm, just the way mine were always cold. and i was glad that my fingers weren't cold anymore and i was also glad that you came back when you did because john malkovich had just entered his own brain and they were in the malkovich room and i thought to myself how i never would have been able to explain that part, not adequately anyway.

i wish my hands weren't always so cold, but i'm glad yours are always warm because it works out nicely that way. our sense of taste is not entirely our sense of taste at all, it is our sense of smell working quietly. and last night on the phone i wondered if it might be the same with our other senses as well because i sat there listening to your voice flow through me and i could feel the heat creeping into my fingers. thank you for these small comforts that make me smile in the middle of the night.

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