THIS

This small part out of one of the greatest stories i have ever read, will continue to just ring through on my life.
"He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad."

Our trials and tribulations

So, we are back to square one.
I don't know how to deal with this anymore. I wish it was the same for you as it is for me.
But i will wait. The only time i will be patient for anyone and that is only for you.
There is far too much love for this to be easy.
But i will wait.

Light shines through my window

I lie in my bed at 2:11 am.
The air is still and warm. I can feel that fine layer of cold sweat on my neck and legs as my fan blows effortlessly towards my bed.

I stare at all the beautiful soft lights that shine through my window, casting pink, orange and light grey shapes of the pane onto my walls. The dark shadows of the tree branches dance amongst these squares, caused by the light breeze that flows outside.

Erik Satie is softly playing, and i can't help but find myself drenched in nostalgia.
the imagery of lying next to the one i love, in my old room, makes itself comfortable in my mind. The blue moon peering through the sky light.
I can almost feel them lying next to me again. Their smell. Somehow, it brings me peace.

For a very small moment, i don't feel so alone, sleeping with my memories.

Memories

This evening i was reminded of memories i shared. Wonderful, beautiful memories. When i think of them, tears come to my eyes and a smile to my lips. So many exquisitely sad memories that i will never, ever forget.