he's taking me to an island. i feel fictional, a poof of a girl, a whisp of a thing. incidentally, i couldn't stand it if someone did me a character assassination. yet i assassinate all the while. tom. i assassinated him last night. i was lurid/hyper with grief. he doesn't want me around. it's heartbreaking, but i just had to know it, i asked him, don't you love me at all? i mean don't you ever look at me and think 'oo, i love her'? yes, he said. i said: tom, its possible i'm not in love with you either, but i do love you very much. i think if you love me at all you should tell me. the telling is imperative.
i love you. he whispered. i really do.
again; a poof of a girl, literally a whisp, literally a ghost. a moment of pure just heaven.
thank you so much i whispered. thank you so much. i kept saying it. thank you so much. and obviously, i love you too.