Toooooooo many thoughts all going on at once.
I am barely able to keep hold of myself, and no, it’s not good.
After a very long trip, I made it home… at 6, or thereabouts.
The first thing I did was to check my mail.
The second thing I did was to go visit Inya.
The third thing I did was write this journal.
We talked a long time. About very deep stuff.
My head is reeling
My heart is aching
I don’t trust … anyone at this point.
There … just … isn’t the spark for her.
And that’s it.
That’s the wrench thrown into the gears.
That’s what’s blowing me apart.
That’s what’s going to make mon oreiller saline.
And yet; what I said holds true.
I’d be willing to give it up if she didn’t feel it.
I’d be willing to wait to see if she felt it.
I’d be willing to be hurt.
…it hurts…