Parting is such sweet sorrow

I hate Sundays. I used to hate Mondays, but I hate Sundays now even more. Before July, Sundays were the day were you would sleep late, read the Sunday edition of the newspaper, eat something unhealthy, and in general be at ease, groovy and relaxed.

But now, Sunday is the day when we have to part again. Every Sunday, I feel my heart being wrenched out, as I realize that the moment of leaving is getting closer. In the end, you don't want to even view the clock, but still, the growing darkness outside reminds you that the absolutely final moment you have to go - or else miss the plane - is approaching unwaveringly. I start to long for her even if she's here, on the sofa, resting her head against my shoulder. I feel her warmth, and feel the empty spot in my chest. The same empty spot that used to have my heart before she took it. And it hurts. It hurts so bad.

I know this is nothing new to people reading this. I know I am whining. I know me and Outi have to come to a solution soon. But dammit - it's my blog, and my life. I get to whine here as much as I want. So there.

She made me apple pie. With vanilla sauce. I think I'll go have some.




Comments

"Lonely is the night when I'm not with you lonely is the night and there ain't no light shining through until you're in my arms until you're here by my side"

--Outi, 24-Oct-2004


Er, and the same with line breaks. Bah. Nothing goes right without you.

--Outi, 24-Oct-2004


Eww, get a hotel room! ;)

--Kateuden Peikko, 24-Oct-2004


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"Main_blogentry_241004_2" last changed on 24-Oct-2004 20:49:51 EEST by JanneJalkanen.