(no subject)
I haven't been to sleep yet. There seems to be no point. It's been harder and harder every night to force myself to lie in that god damn bed and try to sleep. His memories are imbedded in every fibre that was used to make it. I cannot hold a pillow without remembering him wrapping his arms around me before we fell asleep. Even being awake this aerly brings back our memories from last summer...how the light was just so bright it would wake us up...and then we would just look into eachother's eyes while slowly moving closer to one another until finally our bodies were entwined, and after...we'd fall back asleep for an hour or so before starting our day. And through all the pain he has put me through thusfar, I still forgive him, because the thought of living my life without him just brings me to tears. I just wish I could understand how a man can say he feels the same way, yet can still sleep soundly at night. Of coure, there are the benefits of having family and friends around you who reject the idea of ever returning back to London. How people are able to say that going back for someone you love is not worth it i beyond me. How they dare assume they understand what happens behind closed doors.