I could not drink from the cup she had drank, I promised to stay loyal, faithful, trustworthy and understanding. I could deep my feelings into her ocean but what would it profit me? She had been the only girl I have loved, I practically and literally mean that. Just one night. . .
I cannot remember my memories, they are faint from the fall of alcohol in my body, so this is what it means to be drunk in love? Everyday trying to get over her malicious heart, the one made of stone, the idiosyncratic republic of Jezebel’s, if it exists. Girls are evil, why would I have to go through 4 years of joy, only to be rammed by this wall of shame, mistrust and cheat? Did I ever do any of these to be hurt? Was my love only to be gotten back at? . . . .
I did not go nowhere today, its been 274 days since I saw a seed yield upon the sands, a drop of dew resting on a new leaf, I don’t know what kind of people live out there, except the fact my roommate is alive and well, I can only say the world hasn’t changed. I’m trying to think what he thinks of me, what he wants me to do now. I know I’m probably fat on this bed laying all day, sulking my past, dreaming my memory, and forgetting a future exist. Wait! What could she be doing now? . . . .
God! I sought your help when this all started, when I first told you how she was the one the crown spoke of, my ark of the love covenant. You knew how well we were never gonna break this. You remember the pink dress and the red flowers, the one I hid because of the scent of her sweetness? Well I had to get rid of it by fire, but I’m just not happy the fire wasn’t blazing enough to melt the clothes before it reached her. You always knew about this reccess and still let me had it. Its not fair, its not fair . . . . .
Today my roommate found that flowery earing with crystals that shone like diamonds, it had been missing in the third year and its over 458 days now she stopped looking for it. I tried to grind the thought of finding it now but its too late, I told him to grind it over a moving truck and bring me the ashes so I can mock her with it. Did he think I meant it?
He did grind it over a moving truck and brought the ashes, I cried again cause each dust was like a piece of my heart, shattered, unable to be mended. Why did the Sunday become rainy? Wasn’t it supposed to be sunny?. . .
I was told my best friend from the south ‘Darcy’ called again, I have lost count, this may be the 16 hundredth time she has dialed my roommate’s, I still don’t care, nothing she will ever say may change a thing, or heal, or even return me to the past without all this. But if she calls again I promise, I will talk to her. . .
Whatever I ate last night is pushing me out of this bed, to go out. I really want to go a vestibule and tear her pictures.
I did burn them today but in the trash can, maybe I’m ready to talk to Darcy, after all she will listen to everything I have to say. . .
Darcy will come to town tomorrow, I don’t know if I’m happy or sad, all I know is I need her to read all this because I’m suddenly having a short term remembering why I am sad, I feel sick since the nightmare from yesterday and today afternoon. What is happening to me? Do I need to pray or something?. . .
“It was August 12th and I saw him last, he lay as though he was asleep in his tight tux staring into the blackness with his eyes close. Darcy is in a coma and I wonder if they are together, because I need her to wake up and read this journal, I need her to read from behind what truth he had always written about her in the words ‘Dear Darcy'”.
My roommate should have layed down mourning as usual but he decided to see Darcy, and now the same moving truck has sent you to death, what do you want me to do now? Who would continue the journal?