It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.

absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird

Running is many things to me: survival, calmness, euphoria, solitude. It is proof of my corporeal existence, my ability to control my movement through space if not time, and the obedience, however temporary, of my body to my will. As I run I displace air, and things come and go around me, and the path moves like a filmstrip beneath my feet.

Love the world and yourself in it, move through it as though it offers no resistance, as though the world is your natural element.

Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?

I keep myself busy. Time goes faster that way.

It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.