It’s always the worst at night. I have no idea why.
That’s when the images and sounds flood my mind. It’s as though someone made a movie and I saw only the first part. I loved the movie and wanted to see all of it. I loved it so much that I wanted to live in it, but I couldn’t.
And then someone had all the images and sounds and smells and emotions from the rest of that movie — and feeds bits and pieces of them to me at random times. It’s warm and loving images of love and family and home and everything I’ve ever wanted.
There‘s a projector on the inside of my skull — and someone plays those images. What I see teases me and torments me, but I can’t make them go away. I don‘t even know whether I want them to go away.
She’s always there. But she’s not really there.

Why does most love hurt us? Because one usually loves more
Shouldn’t you believe everything you see posted on social media?
FRIDAY FUNNIES
My political lens makes me think you’re crazy — and vice versa
Life-threatening accident for child puts my tiny problems into context
I don’t care where Pedro is from, but I’m happy he’s my neighbor
I don’t know how to amuse you into taking your future seriously
Normal days often turn to terror when you live with a narcissist