Journal Entry on an Empty Wednesday

I have nothing else but this. This loneliness brought only by surges of memory. Your short gazes to my direction. The accidental meeting of our skin. The non-deliberate touch of your breath on my nape. I have nothing else but this. This insatiable desire to relive all of them in my head, for although illusory, they quicken me. They start a fire in the pit of my being and light up as my very essence. I am an organism particled by your very existence. Thus, the day you cease to be, is the day I say my farewells to life.