2004-05-30

Him

Sometimes when I enter my room, I hear such vast silence save for the soft humming of my computer. The curtains are usually drawn, and there is forever this soft macabre feel about. On my desk sits the red book of poems that he made me. Sometimes, I read it, but I mostly don't only to avoid memories coming back. It is all too painful to realize that he isn't here.

Lying in bed last night, I began to miss him. Sometimes I wander aimlessly and don't even realize that I'm remembering something until I mouth something out loud.

I'm not very mentally healthy though, because I have these horrible emotional bouts. I become scared, that perhaps not only am I not an adequate human being, but also not even an adequate partner. He lives much too far away to see me deteriorate the way I do.

aeka at 3:13 p.m.