metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- time and days Some days are worse than others. That's all. It is funny. I can feel him nearer to me at some times more than others. We are still in tune, in sync. The physical contact, any contact other than this communing type this just should not happen. I know it. He knows it. The urge is stronger to reach out some days more than others. Yet I resist, for him, for me, for every fucking body. Give me a medal. I deserve it. And yet I hear his voice, feel his touch, his heart and mine, even at this moment, talking-sharing-communing. I have tried not to whine or write too much about this. I guess one could call this... what... this rhythm spiraling to hell... one could liken it to death throes. Although I know it will never die... The pain will just be a little easier to bear as time goes on. Time - my enemy, my master, my friend. 4:04 p.m. - 2006-07-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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