....................................

Sunday this time. We are infested by doubts. There are no words, there is only to do, to be, to let happen. Hope for the best. Are we disoriented from lack of sleep? Probably. How can I react in such similar ways? I must have moulded myself to shape his thoughts. It's true that it seems to fast. Too rushing. What other way is there? I dunno. I would be glad to be told. He does not restrain. We were very happy day before. We fashioned a feeling and gave it a name. Actually, I suppose one just was. What comes after this? Why don't I know everything about it? What happens after? Both want very much for things to fall into place. More than things to happen even. And even that seems okay. I am drunk, completely intoxicated. In a massive, it darkens my sky with how overwhelming it is kind of way. My books had gone for a toss, my me, I seem to have been giving it such rude treatment for such a long while. It's notreally the fear of not being able to share, although that does crop up. It's perhaps the uncertainty, to have as much of it as you can while it lasts. I am so insecure, am I not, dear God? And yet I am up to wanting him. It amazes me, worries me, whether I shall not burn it out for the both of us.