Subtle Fading
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Day 105
Dear Diary,
I'm thinking of leaving again.
Waiting seems so pointless now.
I was gone for years.
Whatever made me think you would be back soon?
How long did you wait for me, Mireille?
How long did it take before you grew frustrated?
Did you even wait at all?
Or did you just decide to move on with your life?
Whatever made me think you wanted to come back at all?
I guess I never moved on.
I guess I'm still clinging to that letter you never sent me.
I read it again.
I thought that maybe you wanted to see me...
One last time.
Now I realize I have no idea when you wrote that.
Maybe you don't even care anymore...
People change.
I've changed.
But I can't imagine you being any different.
That is what I'm clinging to.
That when you come back, you will be exactly the same as when you left.
Only, you will have made peace with your demons.
I wish it were that simple.
Even though I know it wasn't that way for me.
But every day, there is a chance.
Every day, I think "maybe today".
The longer I wait, the more I'm sure that tomorrow will be the day.
Every night I go to bed in despair.
Every morning I wake in anticipation of seeing you.
Every day I grow more anxious.
But I tell myself to wait...
I tell myself...
Just a little longer.
Why do I keep writing about this?
Why is it that every second day, I end up whining?
I know it's unhealthy.
I try to distract myself.
Television is singularly useless.
The cat is wonderful.
But she's not enough.
I try to draw.
And it works sometimes.
But still, it is only a temporary reprieve.
Music enchants me.
But too often it evokes nostalgic emotions I don't care for.
I want this to be over.
Just this once, I want it to end happily.
Is that asking too much?
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Kirika dropped her pen, wincing as it clattered onto the tabletop. She glanced over at her cat. It was sleeping on the couch, stirring gently and nodding its head as if in the midst of a pleasant dream. Kirika was instantly envious.
She switched off the lamp at her table, letting the darkness of night consume the apartment. There were very few stars tonight. As if on cue, the clouds parted to allow the moon to shine through. Somewhere down the street, a stray dog howled at the sight.
Kirika stepped over to the open window. Just as quickly, the howling died away. A soft breeze gusted up, rifling the pages of the her opened notebook. She was suddenly very frustrated, filled with a need to break the silence. A powerful compulsion to scream gripped her, but she stifled it, afraid of waking the cat and angering the neighbours. Somewhere far away, a siren sounded.
"One more day..." She whispered to herself, knowing full well it was a lie.
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Day 105
Dear Diary,
I'm thinking of leaving again.
Waiting seems so pointless now.
I was gone for years.
Whatever made me think you would be back soon?
How long did you wait for me, Mireille?
How long did it take before you grew frustrated?
Did you even wait at all?
Or did you just decide to move on with your life?
Whatever made me think you wanted to come back at all?
I guess I never moved on.
I guess I'm still clinging to that letter you never sent me.
I read it again.
I thought that maybe you wanted to see me...
One last time.
Now I realize I have no idea when you wrote that.
Maybe you don't even care anymore...
People change.
I've changed.
But I can't imagine you being any different.
That is what I'm clinging to.
That when you come back, you will be exactly the same as when you left.
Only, you will have made peace with your demons.
I wish it were that simple.
Even though I know it wasn't that way for me.
But every day, there is a chance.
Every day, I think "maybe today".
The longer I wait, the more I'm sure that tomorrow will be the day.
Every night I go to bed in despair.
Every morning I wake in anticipation of seeing you.
Every day I grow more anxious.
But I tell myself to wait...
I tell myself...
Just a little longer.
Why do I keep writing about this?
Why is it that every second day, I end up whining?
I know it's unhealthy.
I try to distract myself.
Television is singularly useless.
The cat is wonderful.
But she's not enough.
I try to draw.
And it works sometimes.
But still, it is only a temporary reprieve.
Music enchants me.
But too often it evokes nostalgic emotions I don't care for.
I want this to be over.
Just this once, I want it to end happily.
Is that asking too much?
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Kirika dropped her pen, wincing as it clattered onto the tabletop. She glanced over at her cat. It was sleeping on the couch, stirring gently and nodding its head as if in the midst of a pleasant dream. Kirika was instantly envious.
She switched off the lamp at her table, letting the darkness of night consume the apartment. There were very few stars tonight. As if on cue, the clouds parted to allow the moon to shine through. Somewhere down the street, a stray dog howled at the sight.
Kirika stepped over to the open window. Just as quickly, the howling died away. A soft breeze gusted up, rifling the pages of the her opened notebook. She was suddenly very frustrated, filled with a need to break the silence. A powerful compulsion to scream gripped her, but she stifled it, afraid of waking the cat and angering the neighbours. Somewhere far away, a siren sounded.
"One more day..." She whispered to herself, knowing full well it was a lie.
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