I am home from New York. Have been since Thursday, but didn't really feel like writing anything more about it than my previous entry. I'm not sure what else to say. The details probably aren't important to anyone but Amelie and me. It really was the best week of my life. Amelie really is the best girl on the planet. No one's ever treated me as well as she does. I got her two Preacher trade paperbacks and she told me it's some of the best stuff she's ever read. We go together so well it's... well, it's not scary. Nothing about this is scary. It's just... right.
And now I'm home. I have a cold and I believe I am depressed. It's truly, desperately hard for me to feel anything without her around. I'm empty. I can't even miss her properly; I don't know how. I think my brain has shut down in an effort to save and protect itself. That's the best I can figure.
It's cold and she's not here to talk about comics and keep me warm. How is that fair?
And now I'm home. I have a cold and I believe I am depressed. It's truly, desperately hard for me to feel anything without her around. I'm empty. I can't even miss her properly; I don't know how. I think my brain has shut down in an effort to save and protect itself. That's the best I can figure.
It's cold and she's not here to talk about comics and keep me warm. How is that fair?
Gentleman is great, thanks.