Hunter is offshore again as of yesterday afternoon. I didn't do a very good job making plans for myself. So of course I'm sort of down. Today I rewatched three Errol Morris documentaries and went to the gym. How come I never see anyone I know there when it's so close to Montrose and Midtown? Don't get me wrong, that's the best part about going to the gym. I've run into, like, two maybe three people I know in two years. I love it. My safe space.

 I don't like who I am without him. I'm brooding and quiet and a little mean. I think my hair even gets darker.

 Whenever Hunter says something bad about a stranger, even if it's deserved (which it always is), he follows it up with "I know you probably hate hearing this type of stuff," and I grin with my palms pressed together, fingers tapping, "No, no, please go on." It's so great to hear the good be bad if even just for a sentence or two.

Tuesday I try on The Dress again. You're supposed to schedule your alterations like 12 weeks out, which is pretty stupid considering my weight can change 10 lbs in that time. I should be giddy. But the whole dress part is a panic attack. Measuring tapes, ten different pairs of heels, veil styles, specialty bras. And I haven't added much of anything to my registry because I'm afraid I'll pick the wrong things, hate them, forget to return them, then pretend to use them for years to come. I guess I should get to the galleria and choose some stuff but the mall is not my safe space.