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.

Caine’s Arcade: Watch a 9-year-old boy have the best day of his life
God watches humanity’s struggle and says, ‘You’re doing it wrong’
Has it really been so long since I’ve been ‘real’ with someone?
How did memory get it wrong? Why did I edit truth about her?
Head and heart don’t agree about love, including Valentine’s Day
Today’s group hatred says world hasn’t learned Auschwitz lessons
Film’s tortured protagonist feels uncomfortably familiar to me