I fell asleep last night and dreamed that we took cyanide together. After we had taken it, knowing that death was inevitable, embracing in one last carnal dance, I felt an overwhelming sense of despair for my parents knowing that they would find us and question everything and suffer immeasurable pain. I regretted our decision. You asked ‘is that it, will we both die?’ and as I said ‘yes’ I wondered how you were feeling about it and if you had any regrets.
In the waking world there is this terrible recurring theme… the theme of silence. Cold and distant become those who are so important to me. And I can search for the words here but nothing works. It’s the same thing repeated over and over again to the point of total boredom and yet nothing eases the pain, no answers are put forth and this emptiness never does anything to console me.