"You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again.”

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water and everyone you love is made of stardust. (Finn Butler)

Today is Good Friday. You told me to spare you the doctrine because it'd take me the whole day to explain it to you. That's not necessarily true. It's quite simple actually - the truth often is - and I've told it before so. Yeah. It would not take one whole day if you asked me. But who is, right?

The day everything ended, I fell into deep sleep. It's like I collapsed in lethargy and I fell through a hole in the world. They had meant to patch that up, to prevent more people from disappearing. They should really get on that. My eyes were open but vacant, a mushroom of cloudiness bloomed in my pupils, like a spring flower, ripening despite the dimming cold lights. I slept like a child and no sound shook me, no movement moved me. It was terrifying to wake up and not remember how I had gotten there, what had happened between the last moment of consciousness and at my instant of awakening and what day or time it was.

Do I now pretend that everything's back to the way it was? Go back to meet the same people I haven't seen in months, go back to doing the things I haven't since I started my term. Will you allow it. Do I dare.

I couldn't stop fidgeting in my seat. Hands clammy, chair hard and disagreeable against my spine. I wasn't listening to the speeches before mine. My face was screaming in a redness of flush, it was too concerned with itself to notice the words that were spewing from their mouths and nostrils. I hadn't slept much the day before, I had coffee and my hands were shaky, my voice wavering, uncertain, phlegm-y and my forehead feverish with dampness and body heat. Coffee does weird things, is it just me? But I prayed. And I surrendered. And my speech, oh my speech. Pure electric. Can I pretend that the past 5 months never occurred?

Unique, you said. Compatible. Dinner and a movie, you propose. The truth is, I know how this will leave me feeling and more than how you would feel, I care about how I'd feel if I said yes. So hollow and empty and hungry and aching for something real and full and something that bloody meant something. I yearn for something long-term, something marriageable. Don't give me your temporary affection, I don't want or need that. I need some TLC from my GOD (: And that's apparent.

Let me come home.
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