you think i'd leave your side baby
you know me better than that
you think i'd leave you down when you're
down on your knees
i wouldn't do that
i'll tell you you're right when you want
and if only you could see into me


Tuesday February 6. 2001

another heartbeat

After a thoroughly useless and unproductive day had passed me by, I found myself curled up on the couch, dividing my attention between Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and NYPD Blue. I've always liked the opening credits of NYPD Blue, the theme music starting out starting out sharp and rhythmic and then slowly resolving itself into smooth woodwinds. I glanced briefly up at the TV, and camera was cutting away rapidly from one thing to another. Then I saw something familiar, that I had seen before, I squinted at the TV, but it was already gone. A few minutes later, I realized it was the Triborough Bridge at night.

I leaned against him. He was in one of those pensive quiet moods. The light inside the car was harsh and fluorescent, but the movement and rhythum of the train gradually lulled me into drowsiness, as it always did. He didn't have his arm around me, the seats we were sitting on were too small and hard to make that comfortable for either of us, but that was okay. I rested my ear to his coat and listened to his heart beat, which is still strangely comforting to me.

"Hey," he said softly, nudging me. "Look, it's the Triborough Bridge." He pointed, and I looked across the nearly empty car and out the window. It was like a string of Christmas lights across the night sky, an endless rainbow of tail lights and headlights slowly moving across it. I smiled faintly, and leaned back on him, my eyes fixed on the bridge until it was out of sight.

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One Year Ago:
"There's this light right out our window, a security light of some kind that's on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and it shines directly into the window whenever I'm trying to get to sleep. It even penetrates the ugly curtains, and I was watching this little block of light shining on the Celtic tapestry hung on the opposite wall of the room. It wasn't a bright light, a kind of sallow, dark yellow, almost like right before a light bulb burns out."