January 3, 2007
People ask me how I deal with your absence and I smile, coming up with different versions of the same lie. Then words of admire follow as I seem to be pretty tough to cope with your not being here so well. But it’s not an extraordinary bravery that grows in my heart, just a regular fear. I’m scared how we’re drifting apart, our bodies unlearning each other, our hands slipping loose. You are not here anymore for me and all I have are short messages on my SIM card, an empty apartment on the seventh floor and evening solitude.