My phobia is claustrophobia. Now it is embodied by these losses, these deaths. And the pain is nearly physical. Every moment of separation moves the walls a little bit closer to me.
And I'm still or again looking for him even though I don't know what to look for. I hope he would find me instead, even if it wouldn't be right. I want to be found. I will tattoo it in my forehead. I have to get rid of some things, and replace some things with others.
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Sanna has a blog!? :)
ReplyDeleteShe has a blog she at first meant to direct only to people who had so far remained strangers to her but that she later decided to reveal to some of her close friends after realising how complicated staying anonymous is and how much enjoyment she got from blogging with people she knew :-)
ReplyDelete:) that's great! now you better not stop writing cause i'll come after you! or try to convince you just as you did ;P
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