Give yourself time, Arnold. It gets better... But, Arnold, it never goes away. You can work longer hours, adopt a son, fight with me, whatever... it'll still be there. But that's all right, it becomes a part of you, like learning to wear a ring or a pair of eyeglasses. You get used to it. And that's good. It's good, because it makes sure you don't forget. You don't want to forget him, do you?
I don't know what to say tonight. A lot of things on my mind. Too many people that I'd forgotten and shouldn't have. I'm feeling the need to write... and also the need to push it away, to forget. Forgetting will be a cheap imitation of what life could be like: truly myself, pains and pleasure - everything.
And so I must write. That is all there is to it. So simple. So complex. Easily difficult and difficultly easy. Strange how different those are... and so similar.
Maybe I just need to get my ass to bed.
Sleep well, my friend.
No comments:
Post a Comment