ALAN NELSON

Sep 06 2014

Guest cook

I worked a shift at Barbaro with you last nite and I could tell we were both happy to see each other and happy to work together. We hadn’t worked together in almost 3 years but last nite felt like just another shift at Jo Street. You had on a charcoal dress, cut in a way that accentuated your legs and waist. I liked that. I wasn’t afraid to tell you that you look pretty and I never will be afraid to do that.

I was bummed out when I was plating a dish that was for you but was for to-go. I thought you were going to work all nite and we would talk and hang out a little bit. But shortly after you had left, I received a text from you that said “that was nice :)”. I was happy that the feeling was mutual.

Aug 24 2014

It’s 6:03 am and the morning news begins on the television. I had just gotten home, maybe 15 or 20 minutes ago.

So far, I’ve had 3 days of 13+ hour long shifts, coming home beat, exhausted, and sleepy. Service was chaos, with refires because dumb fuck food runners who only carry 2 plates of food only come back with a deer in the headlights look on their faces, asking, “where does this go again?” I need another because it went to the wrong table.”

Ugh.

I pull into my driveway, get out of my car and basically just got naked and fell into bed. Carrots jumped up on me but I didn’t even move.

It’s nights like this when I miss you the most. Remember when I first started working for Quealy and I would come home, defeated and ready to hang up my apron for good? You were always there to remind me that it’ll only get better, and helped me relax, holding me as the weight and trivialities of work were lifted off my shoulders and being just what I needed: a supportive woman who loves me and believes in what I was doing with my life.

So I guess I’ve been missing you the most for a while now…

Aug 13 2014

Bakery Lorraine

We were one of the first people to discover the magic of Bakery Lorraine, back when we lived amongst the hippies on North Olive. I remember we would always go there and pick up goodies for ourselves or bring them in to Jo Street or grab a little box of macarons before a trip to Austin.

It was and always will be our bakery.

When we went there today, it felt like old times. The good times. Even though you’re on some stupid diet and didn’t get any sweets for yourself, I got a macaron and you took just a little nibble. I think I saw a smile on your face as it hit your lips. We even got everything for free from Eli, who was always on team Ashley/Alan. He’s got season tickets to our games :)

I guess what I’m trying to say is that going there with you today, after having not talked to each other in what feels like a lifetime, and seeing the bakery expanding and changing, and it might be a far fetched metaphor but I felt like things were going to be changing between us also. I’ll have to just wait and let what happens just..happen.

When you dropped me off, I gave you a small kiss on the cheek and dug my face in that heavenly nest of soft, sweet smelling hair. You still smell like home to me. I got out and followed you down the driveway because I didn’t want to stop looking at you. It had been so long since I got the chance to just see you up close that I wanted to make sure I got my fill before I see you again.

Aug 08 2014

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Aug 05 2014

Barbaro, one year

I got too excited, thinking you would be working tonight. I walked in and thought you would be running about, taking drinks to this table, pizza to that table.

But I’ve been okay. I know I haven’t posted anything for a while and I know you’ve noticed. But I’m doing okay. It’s taking some getting used to, not texting you and talking to you, checking in and whatever but it’s best for the both of us. Which I think is why I haven’t been updating like I used to. If I keep seeing you and writing about you, how am I supposed to “get back out there?”

Jul 28 2014

I could be like the rest of them,
And say a piece of me dies
When you leave my touch.
I have said it before.
But the truth? I never die.
I was simply reborn in your distance-

I am a version of my
Solitude
That knows I have you.
There is no reason to ache.

Being alone fuels our
Fire even more.

— Christopher Poindexter

Jul 14 2014
Jul 12 2014

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