10:53 p.m. - 2024-04-30
Circles of Obsidian

The last day of April in the year 24 has been, I dunno, not like I expected it to be. Having to spend time re-arranging cancelled appointments not cancelled by me, having to re-arrange other now delayed arrangements, again not because of me, felt like a hopeless task. They could be cancelled or delayed again, and it would be lost time, never to be recovered.

Tonight as I walked out by the river in a relatively warm 16C, I was sure for a moment that I could actually feel time passing all around me. For just that moment, it was only me in the world that was not moving. I was stationery, the centre of the universe and of my universe. Time was everything else that wasn't me, moving slowly while irrevocably changing every thing that it came in to contact with. But not me.

I'm back at my home, and she's been back to work. She's more or less recovered from her weekend excesses, and I was confident enough to leave knowing she can manage without me. Neither of us slept as soundly last night as we usually do when we are together. We were both wide awake at 2:30 am, in the dark, huddled together, looking into each others eyes. There were no pools of green or blue for us to loose ourselves in. Just circles of Obsidian, scintillant in the darkness.

She whispered to me that I am the only person she has ever met that she can truly reveal herself to. There is nothing she says that she couldn't say, if it needed to be said. I didn't really know what to say to her in return. It was as if perhaps I should say the same, just like an I love you demands the same in response. Is that what she was trying to tell me, but it's actually the one thing she just isn't ready to reveal?