cold love hot plates
silver lake, lucile ave.
my first room with a door in california
a hilly street in silver lake.
girl: 19
boy: 21
i’ve moved into the bedroom of the one bedroom apartment i was previously living in the dining room of for a year and a girl i met on the internet who is a bit of a self proclaimed witch and alien enthusiast moves in. a curtain as my door and furniture i’ve found on the street in wealthy neighborhoods to furnish my first home in LA and nothing has made me more proud than securing my small place in a world so far from where i came from.
it’s funny how much i feel like my place in this world feels so certain when really my life is Exactly the opposite - i make no more than $900 a month and pay $600 for my dining room but that’s enough for me to go to pavillions and get groceries for my boyfriend to make dinner for him, his roommate, and i. i work as a hostess at a stupid trendy la restaurant and clean airbnb’s and an architecture firm for extra money. i’m going to be an actress someday.
my boyfriend has no job, but that’s okay. i like that he doesn’t have a real phone - he says a flip phone is better anyways. i think that’s pretty unique. we fight a lot but we love each other deep, and i don’t know if there’s anyone else out there that feels this way for someone. and i know best, and he knows maybe not the best, but i feel it from him all the same.
my favorite memories are when i feel like we’re playing house together, and we don’t have much but i love being in his bed, with sheets for curtains and the smell of smoke from joints and my upset stomach when i eat too much of his cooking.
Over the last year he has needed time away from me, and while it feels cruel i try to understand where he’s coming from. i can be a lot, but so can he. i feel like sometimes there’s something very wrong with both of us and maybe that’s why we should be together. his dad died of alcoholism and mine is an alcoholic. meant to be in a fucked up way i tell myself.
he has no car either, but he will walk an hour or so for me. he walks to my place in silver lake when my roommate is gone so we can cook. meaning he can cook for me.
Lately, things haven’t been good for us again.
My kitchen in Silver lake, evening. summer.
i look at him, and he feels far away again. something i dread and fills me with a sickness every time it happens i hope, and am promised it won’t happen again.
Girl: was the walk okay? i would’ve come and got you.
Boy: yeah i actually really enjoy it. i listen to my new songs and it makes me feel good.
girl: your phone died again?
Boy: i didn’t pay my bill again but it’s okay - i don’t really need it.
Girl: yeah i figured. i can help with something this time, i want to learn how to cook for us. i got cheap white wine like you said.
(I got a fake id when we started dating)
He’s tall, with his beautiful curly hair and charming smile i just don’t think anything can beat. i still remember when i pulled up on pointsettia and he was standing under a street light cool and so….stoned i later learned. but it was love like i never knew before.
The food is ready, i know my stomach will hurt again after this but i don’t care. this feeling is important to me. my pretend home.
it turns out that this evening is the last time we would see each other for a long time. it’s a twisted feeling knowing that what you want in the moment is not going to be forever, especially when it’s the best thing to happen to you, and it’s slipping through your fingers when you’ve been grasping at it since you found it.
sitting side by side on the couch with hot food in our laps, i fall to tears. and he understands.
Anger at a god i’m unsure of is hell centered right in the middle of my chest.