from Charlie's journal
[ooc: post Music Night]
He's sleeping.
He sleeps from sunup until sundown, which works out to about nine hours most days.
While he's sleeping he doesn't move. He hardly seems to breathe. I know he can't die--I know there are ways he could be killed but he's not going to just die in the middle of the night--but still I'll put my hand on his chest to feel him breathing or his heart beating or something to tell me we'll have one more day together.
But he always wakes up once the sun is down. We have one more day. We talk, we make love, I play for him or read what I've written, he tells me what he's working on . . . it's good. It's so good. It's fun and simple and passionate and I'm so happy I don't know how I can stay this way.
We agreed one day at a time but I still wonder about the future. Someday I may have to go home. And then what will I do? What if I can't come back?
He's sleeping.
He sleeps from sunup until sundown, which works out to about nine hours most days.
While he's sleeping he doesn't move. He hardly seems to breathe. I know he can't die--I know there are ways he could be killed but he's not going to just die in the middle of the night--but still I'll put my hand on his chest to feel him breathing or his heart beating or something to tell me we'll have one more day together.
But he always wakes up once the sun is down. We have one more day. We talk, we make love, I play for him or read what I've written, he tells me what he's working on . . . it's good. It's so good. It's fun and simple and passionate and I'm so happy I don't know how I can stay this way.
We agreed one day at a time but I still wonder about the future. Someday I may have to go home. And then what will I do? What if I can't come back?