A letter, a conversation, and a response.

[20:40] Lent Somnolence: didn't expect her to read my journal. well i thought she might and i thought maybe i should put in some heartfelt something about her in it just in case. but then if i had to think to do it. then it wasn't meant to be there. so why? but yes there were heartfelt moments, but they aren't in there now, it'll come months later when the memory of her is forgotten and i'm shocked into some lucid moment with her. and then the writing will come

-- from an AIM conversation with a friend.

i don't miss people. not right away. i cried when my grandmother died. for perhaps a day or two. i numbed for weeks later. i numbed after you, after the days of crying, the prolonged, break-up, get-together, break-up cycle.

the day that a thaw comes and this particular part of my life is revealed is when the words will flow.

i'm sorry for stomping on such a beautiful flower, but i never meant to take it home with me and put it in a glass of water to be admired each day and smelled and kissed, but slowly withered. i took you to a place too far away to keep anything alive, and not much can grow in the inside of my heart.

-- from an email to S.

I'm sorry S., for stomping on you, breaking you, hurting you, and everything that happened in the course of our relationship. I hurt for hurting you. I ache for pushing you away. I can't say much else, other than, I've shut myself down in this regard, and one day, I will face these feelings and the tears will flow like a flood and your name will be whispered on my lips, and the memory of your voice will echo in my ears. Thank you for the memories that I don't want to open right now, but they are locked up like a treasure box, waiting for when I am ready. The good and bad, it all comes together. Remember, memories are always dirty.