December 13, 1980.

The apartment is quiet now.

That's exactly what I don't want, is the silence and the thoughts voicing themselves in my mind now that there are no distractions. I don't want my pacing to be the only noise available, steady footsteps against hardwood and occasionally a strangled cry before I knock something over.

There's people outside, in silent vigil with signs and pictures and holding lit candles in memory of him. I angrily closed the blinds within two days, afraid that if I looked outside I'd lose the rest of my composure.

I shouldn't be writing in his journal, but I am. It feels like the pen and this paper could be our hands and as long as I keep scribbling our fingers can grasp on to each other, intertwining and squeezing. It's the only sick, twisted solace I have left.

I've had to unplug the television and the phone, whatever was able connect me to the outside world.

I've only cried once in the five days that have passed, and once I cleaned my system of the fitful and frightened and grief stricken tears, I became stoically empty. I loved him so much.

I still do.

The only piece of him I have left is this journal, and it's so goddamn beautiful because I can see him when I read it. I can see us.

From the time he first wrote about me until just a month ago, I can read first hand through the events of his life. I can imagine the situations he wrote so perfectly, forever capturing how we fell in love. Over time his entries grew to be happier and less overwhelmingly lost, so I can only hope with all I have that he's happy now.

I'm bloody angry that he left me, and you can bet I'd give anything just to know where he's at, what he's doing.

All I want is to fucking hold his hand, but until the day comes I'll be holed up in this apartment bedroom, tracing the letters on these pages and wondering what else could have been documented, had he been given the chance.

-paul
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don't hate me oops...

Ik i wrapped this up quickly and without warning but hey life goes on

Thanks so much for reading, as always