Time is precious but even more so when it grows short.
A great sorrow is coming, but I am pretending it is not. I am warding it off by sheer force of will. It shall not ruin the time that is left.
Because it is precious. As love. As life.
It’s all one: time, life, love. All the same. All colors on the same wheel.
I’ll not be on the net again until I am back in Texas. Bill (Twiddle38) is picking me up on Sunday. Maybe Sunday I’ll actually catch up on reading everyone’s Xanga. I’m not sure what state I’ll be in. My comments will probably be very morose. If I don’t comment at all, you’ll know why. I’ll be sparing you.
When I’m with my love, we generate some special magic that affects time. It’s especially strong when we’re kissing, because it’s like we pull away from the rest of the universe and create a little one all its own, with its own local time that exists outside regular time. Time both speeds up and slows down simultaneously. But on a grander scale, this whole trip, this wonderful summer of love I’ve spent with her, has been affected the same way. It’s passed so quickly and so slowly. It feels like a lifetime, and it feels like maybe only a week.
I have to stop now because dwelling too much upon it has made cracks appear in my wall against the oncoming sorrow. Must hold it off for now. Must hold it off for as long as possible.
Later my friends. Hugs to you all.