2003-07-06 - 9:51 p.m.

How can you not be here?

I feel like an idiot, a child

raging at the impossibilty of you not being here when I need you

Crying my impotency in the face of your non existance

it's like a phsyical blow- as if you were delibratly ignoring my pleas

Nothing I can do can touch you. No sound loud enough, no email fast enough, not even the phone lines go where you are

where are you?

I need you here, I need you to be holding me, next to me or I don;t believe I can take my next breath

It's so much harder to move when you aren't here.

I ask myself why I need to get out of bed, why even open my eyes?

I know what I'll see. The cool stillness of night, and if i shol dmanage to fall back to restless dreams of you by other names then I wake yet again to disappointment,

I feel like that point in the 10tyh kingdom where virignia is crying about how

(Damn I will NOT go find the DVD and find the scene) she was lost. How they lost her.

The cats look at me and wish I were someone else. I look at them in turn. and wish they were all somewhere else, instead of crying every day the noises I won;t let out of my heart....

Oh Lord! Why hast thou forsaken me?

I will keep the memory of your face alive with me, when all the world has forgotten the langauge of your name- A little last unicorn perhaps, but tribute none the less.

I can look around, and see your shadows. I can slip my feet into your shoes and pretend you are laughing. When I try and gather yor shirts to me all I smell is detegent- anonmyous clean scents utterly divorced from the vital, vivid smells that are yours.

I would rather a thousand nights of your worst snoring, of sweaty palms, convenience sex, of late nights, of not seeing you in the daylight, a thoushand nights and more of all these, then your sheer terrorizing absence,

The silence mocks me, the air, still in its way, gloats.

Nothing tatstes right, since you're not here.

No feeling is good, a position comfortable.

If this is lovesickness I';d rather have you.

I'd rather be cold and indifferent to you loving ways then suffer your absense a day longer.

An hour is too long for me. I am a jealous witch.

Or judge too harsh, a week, with no respite promsied for another yet, I am simply a sad lonely girl, caught up in a fantasy of her own creation. Until she convinced some one else to play as well, to play at love, a folie de deuz, two against reality, and it was sweet.

Thou art all fair my love, there is no spot in thee,

Turning to the bible now isn't going to help.

I will turn to myself, all night

bed to myself

turn and turn

all night

Without you I don;'t know how to be myself. You are the key to my locked up self.

I locked it away years ago, you know, to keep her safe. So no one would hurt her, or mock her. ANd she;s much nicer then me so when your here I can be nice but since your not

Who shall I be nice to?

What mud is this that hides some future grass?

What rain may come that shades the sun, washes it clean to burn me with your love?

When will you come home, to me?

I miss you like a fool.

-bsg-

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