you were here
2004-01-16 & 2:35 a.m.

if i had something to say,

couscous and chopping asparagus and let's-go-to-spain and sad silences and new basements but old old memories, when laughter filled the space. nine-oclock doctor appointments and sometimes i feel as though they could tell me i'm dying and i wouldn't be surprised.

olive green fleeces and grand sweaters fit for a snowball fete. this was my day to tell you all my new secrets, in person, but instead i told it to the clouds. i would like to ask you if i will ever stop hurting, if you will come back and make us all happy again, and i don't want to answer those questions myself.

your mom and i missed you in silent shakes and sobs tonight. we sat in your room, and saved you a place on the bed.