Hope

Hope has made me heavier. Despite my loss of interest in food, sleep, or any of the vices I usually enjoy, I feel much heavier as of late. One picks up hope after losing everything. I've just forgotten how heavy hope can be.

Today is a particularly somber day. I had asked her last weekend to spend time with me today after her photo shoot. She agreed. I actually planned something quite elaborate. It was meant to be a surprise so its not like she knows how much she has disappointed me with a single action. I would gladly forfeit today if she just called me. If I could hear her voice just saying hello, that she is fine.

Dreams don't help either. They are just a collection of symbols that all lead to one thought, one direction. Music is completely compromised. In my dream I heard Paul singing Yesterday, only the lyrics changed a bit. I can't remember them but they made me feel like crying. Perhaps dreams are nothing but a bombardment of feelings and emotions we give symbols and meanings to later when we wake. That fraction of a second between sleep and waking, where we assign the truth to the world of dreams.

I really shouldn't be this...morose? I mean, I really don't know what will happen. Time will tell. I'm hoping that she'll realize what I have. But being rational doesn't prevent me from this one and consuming fear. That she won't want to talk to me again, won't see me. That the other day was really a good bye in the most serious sense. If that is true..I really can't even entertain the idea. If I would have known...When I saw her there, perhaps not as ruined as me but broken in some way, I would have kissed her.

My thoughts and feelings really do surpass the realm of words, but I have written none the less. I have been working on poetry, which I guess is a good thing. Therapy? Not really. In fact, all my poems sing to her, in a language I almost don't understand.

I feel silly. Its only really been two days. I suppose sentiment truly has no concept of time. I'm caught up between the desire for it to go by quicker or slower, whichever brings her back to me. Time right now is simply the medium of my inactivity.

Really. I am ridiculous. I'm not sure if she is thinking of me or already starting the work of forgetting. Maybe both. I just don't want..to be forgettable.

As heavy as I am, and as depressing as this all seems, (and there is a hint of that, no doubt) I still have hope. I still have hope.

I still have...