Glimpse, tear, shush.

Really bad insomnia tonight, no doubt residual sleep-wackiness from that overnight September roll out at J. Crew on Sunday night. When I get like this I do a lot of nothing, a lot of thinking, a lot of mindless clicking around online. I also drink a ton of water.

I've often thought about how personal I want to make this blog. While I want this space to be my own, to feel real, to reflect my person, I want to protect that privacy I'd like to imagine I have so much of.

For better or worse, I'm a little guarded with myself. This is true of me in a couple of ways.

But maybe let's shed some sections of armor.

I accepted a job today.
My five months of part-time work,
this fast, hot summer,
my easy mornings and late nights,
will be over September 1st.

I'm fearful of a couple of things, naturally. But the one that concerns me most has to do with loss.

I pretty much lost my boyfriend in slow increments over the months at my previous full time job. It was only after I left the company that I realized, painfully, how far we'd drifted because of my work. I am so so scared that this could happen again. Granted, the fashion industry, especially in New York, requires superhuman hours and commitment - As Nigel so wisely tells Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada, losing your freedom, friends, boyfriends, and life pretty much means you're starting to do well at your job. "Let me know when your whole life goes up in smoke. Means it's time for a promotion."

One of the things I've come to learn about being with someone for a long time is you can have really bad years sometimes, and May to May was toughest for us thus far. This summer has been a complete turn around, an amazing, comforting, and healing time. That being said, our decidedly uncertain future is a spring of sadness for me eternal. These past few great months have been so partly because I've temporarily sealed that spring, turned away from it, and tried to forget about it, living each long day for each longer day.

But now that the days are getting shorter, what? And when my week days will no longer be ours, what?

I'd hate for this new time commitment to allow us to drift again, to be the thing that drives my mind back to drink unwillingly from that hidden source of sadness.

"It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything during the daytime, but at night it is another thing."

Hemingway

When the sun comes up in a couple of hours, I'll be feeling exactly what he'll tell me when he reads this post:

We're so much stronger than that.