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My Little Triangle

I found this written in one of my many random notebooks when I was cleaning the apartment today. I wrote it back in September when I had just moved to London:

I saw a beautiful thing the other night. I was kneeling on the bed, leaning down on my elbows in a pathetic attempt to ease my stomach ache, when I happened to glance down my body. There, where my upper thighs have always met, for as long as I can remember, was a beautiful, shining triangle of light, a beacon of the life I’d always wished for and had never had. I lay there like that, on my elbows and knees, stomach-ache completely forgotten, and stared at that triangle of light, willing it to stay. Eventually, when I felt more confident that it wouldn’t just vanish unexpectedly, I began to test my triangle. I made sure my knees were pressed tightly together and shifted my hips, putting my weight first on one knee and then the other. My triangle twinkled cheerfully back at me. of course it was around this time that my boyfriend walked into the room and saw me on all fours on the bed, staring at my crotch as I did a slow little dance from side to side. Damn cohabitation.
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