Which is good, because I am now going through all the other entries, and... ow. I feel like my heart is being ripped out... all the words I wish I'd said, everything I thought, everything I felt, he is so beautiful...

There aren't really words for it. No way to describe it. I'm not going to keep trying... I'm just going to encourage you to go read. I think you'll come away with a new appreciation for... something. Life? Your own experiences? The Good Things? I don't know... right now I'm self-flagellating my poor mind with his entries, and all that's coming to the surface along with the metiphorical blood is this long flash of the times that things went wrong... and then what happened five minutes after, a day after, a year after... the things that made it ok.

Which is all well and good, right? Yeah... except I can't seem to get my mind off a couple things that don't seem to have those nifty after-the-fact fixes.

Angel.

I haven't really mentioned her here yet, have I? Actually, I think I have, never by name... but she's gotten into a lot of my entries the same way she gets into my thoughts, a sneaky little step forward into the spotlight, just long enough for me to see, then she disappears... and the afterimage lingers for days.

She's still on the coast somewhere. I want to go find her, to see if everything I remember was maybe (hopefully, please Daya, let it just be) a dream, a fantasy, my overactive imagination... something to explain it away. I want to go see if now she's dating a nice normal guy, if she's no longer dressing all in black, if she's forgotten about... things.

And I'm afraid to. Because if I wasn't dreaming, then I will be going back to Her. I'm afraid I will get lost in her again... I half-want to get lost in her, lost in those eyes, that voice, her touch... I want to remember that feeling.

Half of my experiments with me-as-sub spring from that - from trying to recapture how it felt to wake up at the foot of her bed and know, KNOW, that if I dared to look up, she'd be watching me, quiet, in the darkness...

She wasn't my 'first love'. She wasn't some mystic Goddess. She was just herself, and that was reason enough for me to worship her. Gods, I miss her... I hated her, for a while.

I can't hate her any longer, I miss her too much. But funny - I only miss her at one in the morning, when I haven't had enough sleep and my heart aches and my head is spinning and my soul feels like it's been flayed open... I miss her then, because this pain is so familiar. It reminds me of her. Of the way she used to look at me.

It's kinda sad, I guess, to feel this comfortable with pain.