A friend of mine has a webpage that half-jokingly, half-seriously opposes war in a sarcastic way. When you click on some of the links, it says “One day all which was lost will return.” When I clicked, it made me think of her, our time, our moments. That text to me seems to mean that nothing is truly lost, that we just give things back, for a short while. I miss her and her optimism.

What I really wanted to talk about today was the morning. I woke up, and my daemons came and haunted me about what she meant that she loves me and wanting to meet me, whether she really wants to be with me, or, more likely, that I’m imagining things and this is her way of saying goodbye. A cold, hard, excruciating goodbye. It makes me want to curl up and do nothing, wait eternally for something to take me from this place, where I’m pretty sure I don’t belong.

There were other things, though, that made me happy. Today I read and obituary and it was mentioned that the loved ones of this man, his wife and children, were at the hospital with him and I thought, I want you to be there… And I saw a fake ad of some child pointing up in and the parents faking a smile looking where the child is pointing at, and I thought about the mind-bending trips we took from our beds and sitting in smoky bars, just the two of us.

PS: And the other day, it occurred to me, that last day, us, playing in the playground, in front of the Italian restaurant we ate at. Being carefree and happy with the gloom over our heads but staying close and intimate.