I am staying in this log house right over the Hill by the River that I just drew. I really cannot paint or draw with any sophistication but I do it never the less. Like doodling.
So come on over when you feel like it. That I'm still having trouble remembering all of those emotions I felt from the excitement of my past life. Over how they keep sticking to me like molasses that I cannot wash away.
I didn't realize how fast I was moving around on the sidewalks of the City hand and hand with her enjoying the music, dancing in the nighttime shadows, belonging to the neon lights here, there, and everywhere, just living.
So when I try to become peaceful by walking around this countryside home that I drew with the flowers I planted, or walk slowly along the river. I still will feel this deep sorrow remembering her not with me anymore.
She became sick with something the Doctors couldn't help us with.
Then towards the end how I keep hearing her whisper to me, "to get someone else so I will not be along after her death."
I never did.
How another thousand little gestures from her profiles and words simply stab at me, like something sharp.
So I think I will build this log home I just drew in the coming months and stay there far away from what I was doing so many time before.
That I can only hope that I can muster up enough inner strength like her to quietly die when it is my turn. Retaining my own dignity and not spilling my own guts, by crying myself to sleep.
Do you think Sue might still be waiting for me on the other side of the river?
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