Everyone gets this idea in their heads that the longer a relationship lasts the better it is. I hope someday I meet someone who is my best friend and we don’t miscommunicate until our clothes fall off or argue to prove a point but rather make dinner and laugh and cuddle and do things together for the rest of our lives. I want that but it doesn’t mean value is lost in the short-lived relationships that were furious and heated and confusing. They had other aspects of connection that I’ll never forget even when I’m angry and diminishing their memories with their ends. A day on the beach. A letter. The first night I went to your empty house. The day I returned. These were important loves, and they may not physically last til death do us part, and they may not end with flowers, but they’re going to always be there breaking and filling our cracks into a life worth living.
Clou le Fou
In conjunction with my photography exploring negative space, I have also been writing in that silent time between midnight and 4am, and here I have gathered memories and words from that space between dreams and reality.