over 1500 emails. more than 300 hours of chat. close to a gig of recordings. i finally had the nerve to get rid of them today. not sure if it is progress or not. maybe.
still hard not to write. i content myself with writing and then deleting. baby steps, i suppose.
i still cry. the stupidest things remind me. out of nowhere.
i have the idiotic wish to share with him that i finally bought furniture. still wanting to hope he’d care for my little victories.
it is fairly common now, the automatic push-back, me of myself with regard to him. working at tearing down the feeling of there being some kind of bond between us. i realise now it is a phantom, a figment. all his words, actionless. still, i chose to believe. it is nothing more than my own faith and trust that aches now, my fault.
i believed because i needed to, i needed it to be real. silly, really… to think if you believe enough, you can make reality. idealism strikes again. pitiful.
i should be thankful, i guess. just haven’t found my way to it yet. someday. someday.