2004-12-28

El Amor

I wrote "City of Adonis" almost one week ago. Tonight I read it again for the first time, and almost weeped.

My world: ghosts and secrets like aging corpses; utter confusion and perpetual battle for clarity; memories; unwelcomed feelings.

It's enough to drive anyone mad. So I took my world and placed within the tight walls of words, making it fit like clothes in that over-stuffed, old suitcase you're always ashamed to carry to the airport.

I'm not crazy, I swear it. Emotionally unstable and neurotic, perhaps...perhaps.

Each night, I continue to stare into my ceiling--tired, yes--restless and with every nerve alive. It's unshakable, I tell you...unshakable. The damned tree with the cherries growing--peppered about. It represents something, like madness and frenzy. These two things cannot be described, only defined. But those dry definitions--a stuffy bunch, they are.

Last night--past midnight--I still lay in my bed and biting my lip...afraid.

I wish Al were here. I don't behave like this with him. Maybe I should come to terms with the fact that I'm a girl in serious need of medical attention--oh, tonight I shall do the same, I just know it.

What to do? When he's not here, and I love him dearly, and my insides are just alive with pain.

I feel that if I close my eyes gently, I can still feel his lips touching mine. I recall how he'd let the tip of his nose touch mine, and he'd smile softly. He'd kiss my forehead and look at me with his glacier-blue eyes. Even through the cold color of his eyes, a warm light beams through and penetrates the very being of my heart.

I need to sleep. Perhaps I'll see him in my dream.

aeka at 9:13 p.m.