clutchbook

Suddenly it was 5 am, and i had turned the last page of my second Melina Marchetta for 2006, tear-streaked face sunk into the sofa, slightly mad from laughing loudly and weeping copiously to myself.

Saving Francesca feels like saving me.

I remembered how it was, that it had been my supposed first-ever birthday with you. How shaken I was when you gave up, because I thought it's just like that. Sometimes I really just need to be like the crazed woman from hell. Maybe I went mad wanting to be talked to. Maybe I really just wanted to take care of you, and to be taken care of.

Maybe the sixteen-year-olds in Marchetta's book makes double-the-age-and-some-more me grow up too (oh yes.)

Will clutch this book to chest as I go to sleep.