there is nothing beautiful about heartbreak, though some people are so poetic about it. i've spent the little bit of my waking day reading. each new window says something different - carol writes about the ecstasy of falling in love, dawn writes about the necessity of moving, a new friend's writes about the pain of loss, you call me back to you.

today i woke up to fog outside my window and a throbbing headache. i decided to pull up the covers and slide back into bed. i suppose i finally got the sleep i've needed so badly these past few weeks.

now i'm dealing with the consequences of shirking my responsibilities - the responsibility of being a student is the greatest one i have to bear, my father says, and the easiest one. i feel nervous, thinking of what i have missed in class ... i am always anxious later, though impulsive at the start.

it is cold in my room when so many things remind me of you. i haven't put them away, and i don't think i will. they are as much a part of this room as anything else. feet go firmly in front of the other, walking against the chill, music playing in my ears.

the act of writing reminds me of you, and it is painful to exorcise my thoughts, but very necessary.

i watched a play on friday, and the characters frequently talked about the exorcism of pain, of the past. the past isn't a demon that needs to be exorcised, it's just a photo that needs to be framed. i need reminders to make me feel stronger - strength comes when you've looked at the photo and can smile and leave it be, not when you've ripped off all the paintings from your walls and thrown them away.

some people hope, some people extinguish in order to cope. i hope, i always hope.

+ posted by M @ 4:56 AM