F insists on wearing matching clothes, at least colour-wise. As we recall favourite moments, I say I love our commute the most; to be able to talk to him about anything and everything and knowing that each commute ends at some point, leaves us room to roam about our mind on what has been said and what has been left stirred.
Everyday I see my old office and am reminded of a lot of things. It’s been six bloody months, and I must move on. I left for what I wanted but did not quite found what I expected to be found, so it hurts a little.
Being married makes you more secluded that you ever expect to be. The way people seem to shelve into one category of people you can no longer disturb on a regular basis, or can be asked out for coffee, I don’t know.
I now look forward to Germany, and that is all. As to what happens between these eleven months, I have not yet a clue, but to pursue things as I see fit.
Reading has left me. Writing has left me. And I must regain it all, and swim against the tide of surrender, else I fall into insignificance.
perkaraperkara 