
I didn't think I'd be the least interested talking to her about him. She told me not give a damn, that I should respect myself. Not to mind my own sins because I couldn't do anything about them as far as he's concerned. Accept the fact that my love is not worth believing. There is little left for me here. When I die, I will not scatter my ashes in a place somewhere, my feather is not geographical, my ashes will be scattered three years ago when for the first time in my life I received and gave something utterly pure. I convinced her it's all worth the trouble. She convinced me he will resurface soon. And he will call or email or text and we will laugh again. So I went home to sleep after 20 straight hours of waking life. Super Perfundo everyone.