That I was hallucinating?

That I needed to see him so badly that I was imagining him?

Or was I really seeing him?

I couldn’t think.  Deprived of sleep, haunted by wakefulness, crushed under the burden of this grief, this guilt, I couldn’t hold two thoughts together for more than a few seconds.

Withdrawing into myself, I remained silent at work, holed up at home, didn’t go out, didn’t have anyone over.  Spoke to no one by phone or e-mail.

At work one day, I had to go into the city for a meeting.  I had volunteered for it, eager to leave the office and my colleagues, their faces heavy with pity or contempt at what I was going through—still going through.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)