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Thursday, Mar. 17, 2005 / 10:02 p.m. ~A Day Thinking~ I suppose I thought about him throughout the day, and I suppose there was no real reason why, no impetus this time, no hormonal influx, no specific trigger, just what feels like a distant memory now, but brought back to the surface, inexplicably at that. Really, it is all foggy or hazy, and the most recent memories are of letters I write to him, letters I never even know if he reads, and sometimes it feels like a little journal, a log, updates about my life, nothing serious, just the main things, nothing below the surface. And yet I think if he ever replied I wouldn't know how to deal with that, as if maybe he's not even supposed to. Maybe it's just me pretending we're in touch. And I wonder how he is, and I wonder how we got to this place, from where it felt like we were heading, and if I wonder too hard, or too long, it starts to ache and hurt, and yet it's all just a dream of memories. I can wake up whenever I want, and there is a reality here, and in this I don't think he ever existed, so now, this place doesn't matter, and any day spent remembering the tiniest details that stand out in a dream that was once its own reality is just a way to escape, even if unplanned or unbidden. He seeps into my consciousness, like smoke through crevices, but is gone with a slightest breeze. Cost of the War in Iraq
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