24 May 2012
In 18 hrs he will be gone.
I'm at his house helping him pack, and by helping, I mean drinking and choosing what music we listen to.
He allows me this, still making me laugh as if tomorrow is nothing but a normal day.
I have not broken down yet. I don't know whether to be proud of this or worried at the eventual demise I will have.
What scares me the most is that his goodbye will be brief, nonchalant. As if the last 6 months, 3 weeks and something days have been nothing but a dream - and it's time to wake up now.
I Don't Want To Wake Up • Opuss № I