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2003-06-20 - 1:29 p.m.

'"take these sunken eyes and learn to see"'

Last night I was awake until something like four in the morning reading this fantastic slash story. Which I suppose should be slightly embarassing to admit. But damn it I revel in my odd little rituals. I take so so much pleasure in those pleasures dubbed guilty. I love them all. They keep me company. Wait. I had a point. Oh, yes. So I was up until the birds started chirping outside my bedroom window. And then had to get up hella early. And yes, ten in the morning is extremely early for a pseudo-insominatic morning-hater.

Afterwards I decided to have a little breakfast, but alas I was out of milk. So I walk walk walked over to fetch some and was stopped in the alley by an older gentleman named Alfred. Alfred was pulling weeds and asked if he could do mine.

And then we talked a little bit about his life. About how lonely he is. About my mother. And his dead wife. We talked about how he's run out of things to do since his wife passed away on the day before their sixty-second wedding anniversary. We talked through unshed tears. And words that fell from shaking lips. Words that skidded like they wanted to stick there and never be said.

We talked because I know the reality of feeling so useless. Of feeling so lonely. And wondering if perhaps that old saying is just lies. Maybe it's better never to have loved at all. Or to have been loved. Because there's nothing worse that suddenly being without. Nothing worse that knowing that no matter how long we must live after today, whether it be an hour or forty years, we must do it without them. We must do it alone.

Today I miss my mom.

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all written material � jordorange 2003-2004

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