a november I don’t intend on remembering
I’ve sat purposely in the window where the sun hurts my eyes, my forehead, and my ego. I very much do not want to talk about November. It remains disjointed, silly, and unreasonably cold. I desperately want August and I don’t how everyone keeps walking, and waiting, but they do and I’m very proud of them.
I have begun work on what I believe to be the greatest novel ever written. It’s about Billy and Felicity and why they refuse to, simply refuse. For they’re own, and each other’s, good though. How good is that?! It feels only recently I have begun to make the decisions that are for my good. For everyone else’s good as well. How good is that?!
And so, we begin work, the desperate work I told you not to do. Oh, but here we are. And Oh sounds oh, so ridiculous in my accent. We begin the work to create a new world. Like one of Jane’s. Because every Christmas when I visit her grave everything seems slightly more worth it because she was real and she did make those worlds and if she was real then I can be too.
Lover, you shouldn’t’ve come over.
Let’s not be silly now, Jeff.
Billy and Felicity. They are the first time I have allowed characters to brew, to grow and fall long before I put them on the page. It’s new and interesting. Pages in, and they already feel like friends. Where this early they usually feel like my worst enemies. Not that I have any worst enemies.
Let’s not be silly now, Jeff.
Funny thing with this one though, the new novel, is that the last time I was writing real friends. This time I am, perhaps, writing friends I would want. Not that I didn’t want my old friends. But you don’t really get the friends you want, do you? You get the friends you get and they are the most wonderful, dreadful people you’ve ever met. You shouldn’t get the friends you want. But one day other people will meet Felicity and Billy and they’ll want to be friends with them too, and that’s why I’ll carry on.
And so, November continues, refusing to relent, for fearing I may get a moment to unclench my jaw. I’ve always known you’re a dick, November. Always such an asshole. Bet you were a biter in primary school, November. And you forgot that November is a great month for movies, so get fucked, November.
November is silly and you are going to beat it. Like, come on, now.
Let’s not be silly now, Jeff.
Can’t wait for you to meet Billy and Felicity.
