Photolog of Wrong Things

We'll begin with the initial right thing to contrast the subsequent wrong things. Me and Scott together.



Now that he's gone I'm full of rhetorical questions.

Like, how am I going to make my bed now without a helper? It's a two person job, really.


Or where is Scott's toothbrush now?


And what am I going to do with all this tea/Who am I going to drink it with, hot in the morning before showering?


For Christmas Scott got me a Beddy Bear. It's a bear that you put in the microwave, then sleep with all warm and smelly-good. It may be warm like a person, but its not the same as a person. And Scott doesn't smell like lavendar. But Beddy Bear (naturally named Scott) will have to tide me over for a few months.



I'm not just saying nothing is right to be complainy. The truth is, I came home after leaving him at the airport and everything felt dead. My room felt empty. Like the life was gone. Suddenly it was just a room again. With Scott here, it was home.

That's the thing. Scott feels like home. Now I feel displaced. Like the Scots from the Highlands. Or the Native Americans from their territories.

I feel incomplete.