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as quiet as librarian's breath

R. gave birth to a baby girl about ten days ago. I am very happy for her and B.. They packed up and left Utah during the first trimester to move in with B.'s parents in LA. They are moving to San Antonio by January. That woman sure has moved a lot since we met. I haven't moved once. I'm working on that. I email these people who have places for rent. They don't respond. More than likely this is because of the massive volume of interest they receive. But sometimes I suggest to myself that maybe they don't like my email, they don't like me. Fuckers. "You are the most change-resistant person I have ever met," R. once told me. I don't doubt that that is true. I don't like changes in my life until I get so uncomfortable that I desperately crave change. I'm pretty damn uncomfortable right now. Despite the discomfort I am inhibited by fear and uncertainty. I would like to send my imagination on a long vacation so that I may act without my brain playing out every possible bad scenario. I'm sick of walking barefoot across an abstract plain littered with razors, discarded needles, and a million rusty what-ifs.

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