night one: i received your farewell text at 1919hrs, and duly replied at 1945hrs. we have cut off communication. spend the night with mommy walking around bugis. she buys me figs and we go shopping. at home, in bed i work very hard and by midnight i am no longer melancholic. but that change might as well be useless, for still you fill my thoughts, they rise up as bubbles and stop at the ceiling, slowly permeating the room. throughout the night thought bubble after thought bubble of you leaves my mind and form the next layer, i am creating my own doom. sometimes the stickfigures walk out of the thought bubbles and poke each other, interacting. by the time dawn breaks there is no airspace anymore; the entire room is filled and presses down upon me, i am on the brink of suffocating but my mom wakes up to prepare for church and also opens my room door. the thought bubbles fly out, float casually, and i realise i have slept another night with my eyes wide open.
after church: i think i am mad at you.
sunday: is spent busy, and by the time dinner with your brother and my friends is over i am no longer angry. that stopped many hours ago, actually. but still i do not return to mourning.
today is the one and a half day mark. the outside weather reflects the inside state. there's a term i studied in the gothic, but cannot remember how to spell. menotomy? in any case, let me dutifully note the weather: languid, cloudy, gloomy, the aftermath of prolonged rain. cold.
i do not allow myself to miss you, nor want you with me.
i mean it: i do not miss you, nor want you with me.
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