This post is for talking about missing someone who you are unlikely to ever see again, but who is still alive. Obviously, don't identify them by name or other detail - or yourself, because the internet can be nasty.
I'll start:
I was unable to make use of the transformative effect that she had on me. It ended when the opportunity to make a difference in her life closed. After her departure, in Winter, I carved a path in the snow around my building, about 150 feet connecting both entrances, to retain access to the last place we had met. In -15 degrees Celsius, I sat in the same chair I had sat when we last spoke, the chair she sat in arranged as it had been. I only did his a few times. Keeping the path clear made me feel better, even when I did not make use of the spot.
She was incredibly resilient. I miss Myself. I miss what burned its way out to the surface from deep inside, in response to her admitting she did not have anyone besides me who she could trust. I thought myself capable of nearly anything.
I do not care about what is happening around me. I attend to absolute necessities, but do little to change anything in my life. I Object. I object to any demand that I should carry on as a quarter of the person I could be, without that energy, that freedom. Snowfall is coming soon. At least, people will enjoy having the path again.
I'll start:
I was unable to make use of the transformative effect that she had on me. It ended when the opportunity to make a difference in her life closed. After her departure, in Winter, I carved a path in the snow around my building, about 150 feet connecting both entrances, to retain access to the last place we had met. In -15 degrees Celsius, I sat in the same chair I had sat when we last spoke, the chair she sat in arranged as it had been. I only did his a few times. Keeping the path clear made me feel better, even when I did not make use of the spot.
She was incredibly resilient. I miss Myself. I miss what burned its way out to the surface from deep inside, in response to her admitting she did not have anyone besides me who she could trust. I thought myself capable of nearly anything.
I do not care about what is happening around me. I attend to absolute necessities, but do little to change anything in my life. I Object. I object to any demand that I should carry on as a quarter of the person I could be, without that energy, that freedom. Snowfall is coming soon. At least, people will enjoy having the path again.
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