Still thinking about this weekend and her. The Book of the Angelica is what I call her written diary that she wrote about me during a previous breakup. The plan was to start the Book of the Diabloique, a response to what she wrote. I wanted to write about all of her faults and mistakes; about how it was her that was an hypocrite and who gave up on our relationship. But I couldn’t cause it doesn’t matter what I write, I still love her. I want her to come back and I want us back together so bad. I’m sure all of my friends and family would tell me that I’m making a mistake, but fuck them. I love her; there is no one I have loved so much. There is no one that I have given all of myself to like this. And now that she is one, I don’t know what I have left. I am still alive, so their has to be something that I am living for; I don’t know what though.
A 40-something rediscovering life in California