a bastard

I am so sad all of the time.
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2018-11-22 05:22:28 (UTC)

Jesus walked in places where you’re gonna drown instead.

I am overcome with missing Count.

I am afraid that if we find each other again, one day, he won’t recognize me, or even worse, won’t want me. Though I am largely the same I have changed in some irreversible ways. It couldn’t be helped. I am still me, though. My heart’s the same. It always will be.

I never got to grieve properly because I never really acknowledged he was gone... but sometimes I’m struck with such deep mourning and longing that it physically pains my chest.
Here are a list of things that I miss:
Waking up, on rare occasions, before him, and seeing him finally look at ease and entirely relaxed, his hair all splayed out on a pillow.
While sleeping together, he would sometimes become overcome with emotion and cry very subtly— his face barely changed except a fluttering close of his eyelashes and the tears on his cheeks, and he’d look so deeply entrenched in raw feeling, and he’d pull me as close as physically possible.
How he was indiscriminate in all things except when regarding me.

I would... do many things to go back to him. To know, at least, if he was even alive right now. Drastic things.


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