Rainy afternoons

Being with the Boy makes me happy, whether it's minutes or hours. Something that is closed the rest of the time is opened. And at the same time I am starving to death on the crumbs of his affection. It is not his fault at all; it is just the way he is and things are.

And every time I walk away my heart breaks again, even though I know how ridiculous it is.

The endless rain falls.

Nausea comes and goes - the doctor says it is gastritis but I don't believe him, so there's not really anything more to be done.

There is a pretty siamese kitten in the petshop, and I can't help going in for a look. In the wire cages there are chickens with patches of bald pink flesh with the feathers pecked out. There are kittens with rumpled fur, climbing over each other to stare at me with wide eyes. There is a sickly little black one looking bowed and hopeless, gummy eyes oozing.

Suddenly it all seems unbearably sad.