eros and kronos

I'm sitting in my Chicago hotel after a very refreshing week with my companion from France. We drank in the signature room on the 95th floor of the John Handcock building, saw memorials and monuments, went to a Cubs game, drank with Gongola, and saw a wonderful museum involving art for wounded soldiers. Afterwards there was always drinks, good food, and broken but delightful conversation.

Listening to the soundtrack to the Fountain, again, and thinking back at the past...again. It seems like spring always brings blossoming romances and interesting new ideas to me which thin out during long and lonely summers. There is beauty in them. Swimming in the moonlight in the old High Mill lake, picking vegetables with my sisters, and working in the sun for a petty wage were my passtimes two weeks ago. Now Ambre is here and we're travelling around.

I can't say that I'm not thinking about the moment. No expectations is always the way to go.
I can't help but think though that this trip shouldn't have happened from the perspective that it wedged me out of several important relationships. This shouldn't be accompanied by a sense of entitlement to some adamant connection...but it's strange that she is oblivious to the fact that it shredded my chances with a few other wonderful companions.

So, we're packing for the train to New Orleans. I'm hoping to get a hold of my friend there to show us around the city. We'll see how it goes.